Fall Like Snow
by j0bberkind
Summary: Big Time Rush snowed into a hotel with My Chemical Romance? It may be freezing outside, but things between Logan and James are about to come to a boil. James/Logan
1. Chapter 1

Fall Like Snow

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I've messed with MCR's ages, relationship statuses, and possibly personalities to suit my needs. No disrespect intended.

XXXXXXXXX

_ "And if you're on the roads in southern Minnesota tonight, I'd advise putting up at a hotel for the evening. Better safe than sorry. Here's Jim with more on the developing storm. Jim?"_

The screen flashed to a graphic of a rapidly moving bank of clouds converging menacingly over the lower half of the state, shedding snowflakes as it went. A paunchy man in a grey bowtie repeated what he'd been saying for the past hour on the "blizzard of the decade" and the fascinating structuring of its layered formations. Logan muted the television and turned to where the others were unconcernedly playing poker.

"I'm telling you, we should stop now before it hits."

"Ehh, Kelly would stop the bus if it were that bad," Kendall said, waving a hand over his shoulder. He laid down his hand with a flourish. "Three nines, boys."

"Kelly is with Gustavo flying ahead to Detroit to set up the venue," Logan reminded him, fully aware it would make no difference. "All we have is Martin the sound tech and Natalie from makeup."

"Don't forget Billy the bus driver!" Carlos put in, distracted from pushing their sad little pot of twelve cents, a button, and a condom over to Kendall.

"Or Freight Train in security," put in James, already shuffling the cards again.

"The point _is_," said Logan, talking over them, "we're driving into the "blizzard of the decade" and I don't want to have to snuggle with you guys in one bed to produce body heat when the bus breaks down and snow covers us to the roof and we're not found til the spring thaw!" He waved the remote for emphasis, attempting to convey the horrors of being trapped in a bus with nothing but each other.

"Snuggle, Logan?" Kendall asked, raising one of his thick eyebrows.

"Duuude," Carlos groaned. James laughed, dealing the cards.

Logan glared at them. "I'm serious! We need to get to a hotel." He dialed Billy the bus driver's number on his cell for the third time that night. Billy answered on the first ring.

"No, Logan, we ain't gonna stop. I gotta get y'all to Detroit 'fore mornin and there ain't nothin you can do about it." He hung up. Logan sighed and collapsed on the couch.

The tourbus wasn't large, but it was big enough. There was the kitchen/breakfast room/sitting area/tv lounge up front by the door, which wasn't connected on the inside to the driver's cockpit, where Billy and Freight Train sat. A long hallway beyond the tv had bunkbeds on either side and a tiny bathroom with a shower set into the back of the bus. They couldn't walk down the hallway two abreast, but they all loved the bus. It made them feel like real rockstars, no matter how many weeks they'd been on it.

Logan contemplated being stuck on the bus for however many days it would take the snowplows to reach them. He found himself loving the bus significantly less.

"I believe, gentlemen, that they call this a straight," James said in a bad British accent as he slapped his cards down.

"Fuck!" Kendall dropped his cards and shoved the pot to James.

"What kind of poker are you even playing?" Logan asked.

"Winner takes all, even from past wins," Carlos explained. He seemed in awe of James' hand.

James pushed the cards at Carlos to deal and held the condom up to the light. "Trojan. How plebian. Still, I bet I could make use of it." Kendall snorted, but James caught Logan's eye. He winked, and Logan felt a flash of heat run through him.

Poker ended with James holding onto the pot for three consecutive hands. Logan worried at the hem of his jersey as Barbara the news anchor and Jim the weatherman gave increasingly dire reports. Snow fell thickly outside the windows until it got too dark to tell and the other three made Logan give up his weather vigil for channel 46's _Spartacus_ marathon.

James squashed next to Logan on the couch while Carlos and Kendall lolled on the floor. Logan might have preferred a good documentary on gladiators to the historical inaccuracies that littered _Spartacus_, but he wasn't immune to the pull of blood, guts, and drama. He looked down halfway through the third episode to where he'd felt something sharp poking at his wrist and found the foil of the condom wrapper shining from the light of the tv where it was half-palmed in James' hand. James scraped it along the back of his hand like a promise, though his eyes never left the screen. Logan ran the pad of a finger over James' thumb in reply. He tried to focus on the onscreen slave sex, but his mind was on a different sort of debauchery.

Carlos was just talking about turning in for the night when the bus stopped moving.

They felt it immediately, long accustomed to the feel of it rumbling and vibrating under their feet. They looked at each other and Kendall opened his mouth to say something, but Logan's phone rang and cut him off. "Billy?" Logan said by way of greeting.

"Logan, we're stuck."

"_Stuck?_" Logan yelped, and the other three made suitably appropriate gestures of horror.

"Run into an avalanche and the tires are iced to hell. We ain't goin any further tonight. I'm real sorry, kid."

"Okay, okay, okay," Logan muttered, trying not to freak out. His brain wasn't helping, feeding him pictures of being forced to eat Freight Train after they ran out of food. "How much fuel do we have left? Can we spare the heat? Are we on a main highway?"

"We've got about a quarter tank, a little more in reserve, and it'd be best if we could turn the bus off. We're on a detour off of 90."

"We can get through this. No heat, no electricity, but we'll manage. Okay. We're fine." Logan was aware he was rambling, but powerless to stop it.

"Uh, Logan?"

"_What_, Kendall?" Logan snapped.

Kendall held out his iphone. "There's a hotel, like, a mile from here."

Carlos whooped. "All hail GPS!"

"Real beds tonight! Real showers! Real mirrors! Thank you, storm!" said James, perfectly serious.

Logan rolled his eyes, but secretly he almost wanted to thank some sort of nonexistent higher power. He relayed the information to Billy while Kendall called to book three rooms. They set about shoving clothes and toothbrushes into bags for their unexpected hotel stay, tossing coats and hats around to bundle up for the cold.

Freight Train opened the doors a few minutes later and they stumped out into the freezing air. They huddled together for warmth and met up with Martin the sound tech and Natalie from makeup, who were following the bus in Natalie's car.

"Are you sure it'll be okay to leave it like that?" Logan asked Natalie while Carlos packed a snowball to lob at James.

"Sure. There's no chance of anyone getting up here for awhile," Natalie replied. "I'm not sure my little car could have gone much farther in this anyway." She gestured to the falling snow.

"Weather report said it would turn blizzard in about an hour," Martin put in. "We were listening to it on the radio."

They surveyed the tall bank of snow about a hundred feet in front of the bus, clearly rolled down from the rock faces on either side of the highway.

"No gettin through that," Billy said, lighting a cigarette. Logan privately agreed. Snow on the ground had banked at least a foot deep already, and with the expected blizzard, it was probably for the best that they were stopping now.

"Alright!" Natalie said, clapping her mittened hands. "I'll ferry the boys over first, then come back for you three. Kendall, you'll have to direct me."

They piled into Natalie's sedan, Logan, Carlos, and James in the back and Kendall up front to navigate. The hotel turned out to be just off the last exit they had passed; they could probably have walked to it, had they needed to.

Natalie dropped them off in front of the main lobby, promising to be back soon. They were about to push inside the double doors when Carlos squeaked and clapped his hands to his face.

"What?" Kendall asked, sounding like he was fast growing tired of the night's adventures.

"Isn't that…isn't that…My Chemical Romance's tourbus?" Carlos yelped, pointing a shaking finger at the bus parked alongside the building. They all turned to stare, and sure enough, the band's logo, name, and the promo pics from their new Killjoys shtick were plastered across the side. Logan felt his stomach erupt in excited butterflies. MCR was a guilty pleasure of his, and apparently of Carlos as well. What was the probability they were staying in the same hotel? Would he be able to meet Gerard Way?

Kendall and James seemed less than impressed when he and Carlos turned to them with saucer eyes, babbling about _MCR and do you even understand how famous they are?_ Grabbing their shoulders, James steered them both inside so Kendall could check them in.

Logan and Carlos peered around the lobby as if expecting the other band to be hiding behind the fake ferns while Kendall dealt with the tired desk clerk. Logan was glad to have someone to fanboy with; he doubted he'd have emerged from this experience with his dignity intact otherwise.

"Remember, if we meet them, _act cool_," Carlos whispered to him.

"Can't scare them off," Logan replied, nodding.

"You're both idiots," James said, coming up behind them. They ignored him, peeking into the dark dining room, just in case. It was empty.

Logan's cell rang. It was Natalie, telling them the car wouldn't start, but not to worry because Martin was apparently as good with engines as he was with mixing software. In any case, they wouldn't get to the hotel for awhile, and just sit tight.

Kendall, having finished checking in, walked over with three room keys fanned in his hand. "We're all good for the night. One room for us, one for Natalie, and one for the dudes."

"What, you couldn't have gotten us another room? So we didn't have to share beds?" Carlos asked, making a face.

"It's called being economic," Kendall said archly.

"Aww, afraid of _snuggling_?" James teased. Carlos laughed in Logan's face and Logan stuck an irritated tongue out at him. "Well, I'm not. I'd love to snuggle with Logan." James tossed an arm around Logan's shoulders and planted a mocking kiss on the side of his head. Logan pretended to be annoyed and was in the process of shoving him off when the elevator dinged.

They turned to look as two grungy-looking men shuffled out and over to the hotel's "gift shop" in the corner. One was thin and dirty blonde; the other more stockily-built with fire engine red hair with at least an inch of roots showing. They loaded some of the cheap snacks into their arms and walked over to the main desk to buy them. Carlos yanked on Logan's sleeve insistently.

"I know," Logan breathed.

"It's them it's them it's them," Carlos chanted under his breath.

"It's who?" Kendall asked. "That's not My Chemical Romance, is it?"

"_Yes_," Carlos and Logan hissed simultaneously.

"It's Gerard and Mikey Way," Logan said, for the benefit of those that perhaps didn't frequent MCR chat rooms in their spare time. "We have to go talk to them," he said to Carlos.

Carlos grabbed his arm. "I'm afraid."

"We can do this."

"Let's go."

They both stood there motionless as the two men paid for their snacks and turned to head back to the elevator. Kendall sighed and grabbed their arms, dragging them over to cut them off. Gerard and Mikey stopped, looking very tired and like they had very little patience for whatever was about to come out of the teenager's mouths.

"Hi," Kendall began. "We're Big Time Rush. This is Carlos and Logan. They're apparently big fans."

"Hi," Logan said quietly. Carlos squeaked.

"It's always great to meet fans," Mikey said. It sounded rehearsed. "Would you like an autograph? Sorry, but it's been a long day. Our bus got stuck in the ice on the way to Detroit. We had to be towed here."

"Ours too! We're heading there to play a gig," Logan said, finding his voice while digging for a scrap of paper to be autographed.

"You're a band?" Gerard said, and if he were feigning interest, he was doing it well.

"Only the best out of LA," said James, coming up to them at last. Gerard and James looked each other up and down.

"First tour?" Gerard asked, quirking a smile.

"Second," James shot back. Gerard grinned at him, flashing his teeth.

"How old are you boys?" Mikey asked, scrawling his name across the back of a receipt Logan had found in a pocket.

"Seventeen. Well, James is eighteen," Carlos said, still looking ridiculously starstruck.

"Is he now," Gerard said, almost too quietly to be heard. Something pinged in Logan's brain, but he ignored it.

"And on your second tour, too. Impressive stuff," Mikey said, passing the receipt and Sharpie to Gerard. They exchanged glances and almost identical impish grins.

"So," Gerard began as he whipped out a signature and handed the paper to Logan again, "who's sleeping with who?"

_Whom_, Logan's brain corrected rather than process the more alarming meaning of the words.

"_Excuse_ me?" Kendall said, narrowing his eyes.

"You heard," Mikey said, laughter in his voice. There were laugh lines around his mouth; they distracted from the bags under his eyes.

Carlos looked confused. Logan very carefully did not look at James. "Uh, no one's sleeping with anyone. We're _guys_," Kendall said, looking like he knew there was a joke somewhere in this situation and he was determined not to be the butt of it.

"Ahh, my friends, you surely wouldn't piss on the long, noble traditions of bands on the road? Confidences between brothers—not you, Mikey, of course—and helping out your friends? A little hot 'n heavy to wile away the miles?"

"No?" Carlos said, sounding unsure.

"Is that really a thing?" James asked with what appeared to be genuine interest.

"Sure," Mikey said easily, though his eyes were dancing. "No time for groupies when you're traveling every night."

"You're living in each other's back pockets anyway," put in Gerard. "What's the harm?"

"Um," said Carlos eloquently.

"We're straight," Kendall said, as if that settled the matter.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Gerard said, laughing at him. "Anyway, all the cool bands are doing it."

"All those nasty, nasty rumors about Panic at the Disco," Mikey said.

"And Fall Out Boy," Gerard added.

"And those German boys, what were they called? Ehh," Mikey said, dismissing the thought with a wave of his hand. "What about you, short stuff? What are your thoughts on the matter?"

Logan startled. "Me? Um. I don't really have any, uh, thoughts. About it."

James laughed and ruffled his hair. Gerard winked at him, a horrible, horrible recognition in his eyes. He looked like he might say something, too, but at that moment the rest of their party blessedly walked through the door, saving him.

"Looks like we've gotta go," Kendall said, sounding not at all sorry.

"It was nice meeting you!" Carlos said, apparently relieved to be back on familiar ground.

"Yeah, you boys too. Remember the advice, kids," Gerard said over his shoulder as he and Mikey headed for the elevator. Logan waved, feeling exposed.

The four crew members headed their way. James touched Logan's elbow reassuringly and went to meet them.

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Up in their hotel room, Carlos flicked through channels while Kendall remained visibly squicked by the whole encounter. James lounged on one of the big queen-sized beds and Logan tried to coax a wireless signal out of the air for his laptop.

"I mean, clearly they were lying. Having us on." Kendall frowned at his reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall.

"Pulling our leg," added Carlos.

Kendall nodded. "Messing with us. There's no way bands actually do that. Hell, I bet _they_ don't actually do that."

"Aw, who cares either way," James said casually from the bed. "It's not like it matters."

Kendall shook himself, as if he'd walked through a cold draft. "It's just weird. That they'd even suggest it, y'know? They're brothers, right?"

"The Way brothers. Gerard is older," Carlos answered. "You shoulda seen Gerard back when he had that white hair. It was awesome."

"What, so you're gay now too?" Kendall joked.

"No way!" squealed Carlos, but Kendall tackled him on the bed. They rolled around, trading light punches and shouts of "gay!" Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw James' lips twitch into a scowl before they smoothed into their former impassive expression.

"Hey. Hey!" Logan yelled over his bandmates' noise. "It's almost three AM. Can we get some sleep? Please?"

"Yeah, yeah, Logan," Kendall grumbled as he rolled off the bed to shuck his jeans and jacket. James just rolled over and dragged the blanket at the foot of the bed on top of himself. Carlos and Logan changed into the pajama bottoms they had brought and Kendall hit the lights. Logan slid under the covers beside James in the ensuing darkness. He reached out a hand to touch James' shoulder, and while James didn't respond, he didn't pull away, either. Logan listened to Kendall and Carlos whisper and shove for a few minutes, but his body quickly remembered what time it was and sent him into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He awoke the next morning to the sound of Carlos' excited chatter. Half-asleep, he fumbled his way out of bed and to the window, where the others were gathered, talking much too fast and way too loud. Then he stopped, rubbed his eyes, and stared.

"That has to be…at least five feet of snow," he said weakly.

"And it's _still snowing_!" Carlos yelled, jumping up into the air and pumping his fist.

"Ah, Kendall, how far away from a town did you say we were?" Logan was trying to remain calm, but all he could think of was Gustavo's face when he discovered they'd be missing their sold-out Detroit concert.

Kendall whipped out his iphone and pulled up Google Maps. "It looks like…two hours, in prime road conditions."

"Would this be through the pass with the avalanche?"

"Yes. Oh, but I don't think Little Lakes, Minnesota—that's the town—is big enough to have a snowplow anyway. Population two hundred."

"So what you're saying," Logan began, staring out at the plains of untouched snow that had effectively buried everything from shrubs to whatever cars had been in the lot outside the window, "is that this hotel is nothing more than an out-of-the-way rest stop for truckers and that it might take days for the roads to be cleared for travel?"

"If we run out of food, I'll be eating Kendall," James announced, heading for the shower.

"Can we go out and play in it?" Carlos begged, and Logan was distracted from his worrying to remember that even if it was keeping them from the eighth stop on their tour, it was still five feet of snow, which meant the most epic igloos ever constructed.

He had both his boots on when a bone-chilling thought struck him. "Hey, uh, guys? Did anyone call Gustavo last night to tell him we were delayed? Maybe one of the staff?"

"No…" Kendall replied, the cold reality of what they must do dawning on him.

"I vote Logan does it!" Carlos said, dashing out the door before Logan could protest.

"Sorry buddy. Nice knowing you!" Kendall raced out after Carlos like he had a gunman on his tail, and Logan sighed in defeat and sank into the just-this-side-of-moldy armchair in the corner, dialing Gustavo's number.

Ten minutes of conversation later, most of which was spent with the phone held a good two feet from his ear, Gustavo hung up with threats of sending them all packing back to Minnesota to die in the snow like the stray dogs they were. Logan didn't want to take to risk of pointing out that they were already _in_ Minnesota, and that was more or less the problem.

He tossed the phone at the table and flopped belly-down onto the unmade bed, too depressed to follow Kendall and Carlos out into the snow. Who knew what the consequences were of sending thousands of fans home disappointed when they didn't get to the concert? They'd have to rebrand themselves Big Time No-Show if they weren't in Detroit in—he glanced at the clock—ten hours. No one would want to come to a concert after that and, dreams crushed, they'd be sent right back to Minnesota. In fact, it would probably be better to just stay in Minnesota right now. Save themselves the humiliation.

"Are you trapped in your head again?" James asked, coming out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and water dripping from his hair.

"I wonder if we could still play birthday parties and weddings," Logan mused despairingly. James laughed and walked over to fasten the chain lock in the door. Logan looked at the clock again. 8:05 AM. Nine hours, fifty-five minutes until the end of their careers.

"Want a distraction?" James asked from the foot of the bed. Logan glanced back at him.

"Horny?"

"God, you have no idea," James said, taking his response for affirmation and crawling onto the bed, leaving his towel on the floor. "Thought we'd get to fuck last night."

Logan sat up and kicked off his boots, feeling James' fingers worm under the sides of his layers of sweaters to help peel them off. To tell the truth, he'd been looking forward to sex last night too, folded up in the miniscule bus bathroom, keeping as quiet as possible while the other two slept. It had been too long, and he'd welcome anything to get his mind off of their impending doom.

"Condom?" Logan asked as he stood to kick off his jeans and boxers.

James grimaced. "Left it on the bus."

"Do we have any more?"

"I don't think so. Fuck." He flopped back on the bed and rubbed his hands over his face. Logan crawled on top of him anyway.

"So no penetration," he said, ignoring the face James made at the clinical word, "but there are other ways to get off." He licked his hand and wrapped it around James' half-hard dick, stroking lightly. James sighed in pleasure stretched his arms over his head. Logan dipped his head and bit a nipple, starting to rub himself against James' thigh.

A light beep was all the warning they had before the door banged open a few inches, stopped with a jerk by the chain pulled taught.

"Shit!" Logan whispered, rolling off of James and the bed in one movement. "Shower! I'm in the shower." He raced into the bathroom and slammed the door just as Kendall's confused "guys?" echoed through the crack in the door.

With shaking hands, he locked the door and started the shower, listening to James—who had hopefully wrapped his towel around himself again—opening the door and grumbling at the others' annoyed accusations. Apparently Natalie had sent them packing back upstairs the second she'd caught them outside, worrying they'd catch colds or be lost in the snow. Logan stepped into the lukewarm water and jerked himself off roughly, thinking of nothing in particular and ticked at the others' impeccable timing. His orgasm was weak and unsatisfying, and while he washed his hair he entertained fantasies of pulling James into the bathroom and having James blow him against the door.

He supposed he should be satisfied with just his hand, but he wasn't. He hadn't been, ever since he and James had started fucking around about six months ago. There was no real commitment—or at least, Logan didn't think there was; they didn't exactly talk about it—but James had opened up a world Logan might never have had the guts to experience outside of surreptitiously-downloaded gay porn.

Logan needed labels like he needed breathing, like he needed to add up the world and put it into tiny boxes to poke at and analyze, so he called himself 'bisexual' and James 'pansexual' and what they were doing 'friends with benefits.' James didn't need labels. James experienced a breezy, undefined sort of existence where beauty and warmth reigned supreme and where the real world rarely interfered. Most people thought James was stupid. Logan didn't; Logan thought James just didn't care about the stuff most people did.

"Logan? I need to do my hair," James called through the door. Logan turned the shower off and wrapped a towel around his waist before opening the door and letting him in. "Sorry about that," James murmured once the door was firmly shut behind him.

"It's not your fault," Logan sighed. James pulled a fat bottle of some sort of Cuda product out of the bag by the sink and spritzed his hair. Logan leaned against the counter. "Later, I guess."

"Still worked up?" James asked with a devilish smirk in his voice.

"If I have to jerk off five times today, it'll be your fault."

James laughed. "Later, then."

Someone banged on the door. "Natalie wants us downstairs to discuss what we're going to do," Carlos called.

Logan made a face at James and started to leave. James slapped him on the ass as he squeezed by.


	2. Chapter 2

The meeting was two parts strategizing, one part calming down sound tech Martin, who seemed convinced Gustavo would fire him for his involvement in the ruin of everyone's careers. Martin was doing little to ease Logan's own internal panic. With some help from the irate overnight staff, who were more than pissed at being stuck in the hotel without the morning crew's relief, they determined that the fastest they could hope to be driving on clear roads again was the next day. Until then, they were at loose ends.

The band sat around a table in the dining hall, picking at what food the staff had put together. Apparently the actual cooks didn't arrive until the morning, or, in their case, whenever the roads were clear.

"So, fruit, cereal, vending machines, and the snacks in the gift shop," Carlos recited. "We're going to starve!"

"It takes weeks for humans to starve to death. As long as we have water—"

"Not helping, Logan."

Kendall's cell rang, and he put it on speaker when he realized it was Kelly.

_"We're doing the best we can to deal with the situation in Detroit, but you're going to have to do your part, too."_

James' frowned. "What can we do from the hotel?"

"—In which we're going to starve to death!" put in Carlos.

_"You'll need to make an apology video explaining the situation. Upload it to as many places as you can—get Martin to help you with everything. Make it good. I think we might be able to salvage this situation."_

"What should we say?" Logan asked.

_"I don't care, but make them love you for it. Oh yeah, and we're releasing one of your new songs free online to everyone who bought a ticket to Detroit. Hopefully you'll still have jobs in a couple days. Talk to you soon."_

She hung up and the boys immediately began throwing out ideas. You could say a lot of things about Big Time Rush's incompetence in other aspects of daily life, but they did work well under pressure. At the last second. When most everyone else had given up on them. It seemed to happen quite a bit, actually; Logan wondered why that was.

James was advising that they all appear shirtless, so Logan was forced out of his head and back into the conversation to filter out the ridiculous ideas from the ones that would actually work.

XXXXXXXX

Three takes later (Carlos kept laughing), they left Martin to edit and upload the video while they snuck out the back to finally play in the snow. After all, what good was a five-going-on-five-and-a-half-foot snowfall if they didn't get to go out in it?

Logan honestly couldn't remember snow this deep, despite having lived in Minnesota most of his life. The most he'd ever seen was less than four feet, and that had turned the city into a quiet winter wonderland for days. He wondered what his family would think of this buildup—weather reports said the blizzard had missed northern Minnesota and his hometown. His mother would probably tell him to be careful in it. So much snow could easily trap a person and hide the body for days.

They pushed out the door that led to the courtyard with the fenced-in pool and stood under the awning that had protected a four-by-four square of concrete from more than a foot-high drift. Snow built up all around them to Logan's shoulders. The surface of the snow was smooth and clean, peppered with the occasional set of bird tracks or tops of shrubbery. It was beautiful, but it was also dense and solid, and Logan had a hard time imagining they'd be rescued in a day.

"Geronimo!" Carlos shouted, launching himself into the drift. He sank a good three feet into it before the harder-packed slush near the bottom stopped him. His elated laughing was slightly muffled by the snow.

Kendall began pushing his way through the stuff, leaving a man-sized tunnel in his wake. "I reckon," he said, "we can create an interlocking network of tunnels through this whole area."

"Why?" Logan asked.

"Why not?" Kendall said, throwing a grin over his shoulder as he forged on. James was right behind him, creating a new tunnel at a right angle to Kendall's.

"Help?" Carlos called. Logan dragged him out of the snow, shaking his head when Carlos immediately jumped back in, attempting to backstroke his way across the surface. Logan kept an eye on him, thinking of what his mother would say about getting lost and freezing to death.

"If you get too cold, come back in," Logan yelled to the courtyard in general. "Whatever you do, don't fall asleep!" There were general murmurs of assent from the other three, but Logan worried anyway.

He walked over to an untouched area of snow and prodded at it, bending to inspect the various layers. Weather patterns were another aspect of natural science that fascinated him. He attempted to guesstimate the surface tension of the snow until a snowball hit him in the back of the head. Years and years of being best friends with the other three had left him well-trained, and he was already packing a ball in his hands as he turned to search for the offender.

It was James and Kendall both, who had apparently given up on their dream of creating a rabbit warren out of the courtyard and had combined forces to dig a fort about four yards away from the awning. Acting fast, Logan pulled Carlos out of the snow again and stomped out to where the snow was deepest. He fired off his snowball and hunkered down to strategize with Carlos.

They stayed out for nearly two hours. It was noon when they trooped back in, shedding layers and running straight into My Chemical Romance. It was the whole band this time, apparently down for lunch. Logan eyed Ray Toro and Frank Iero with interest, but found himself mostly level headed over the prospect of meeting them. It was probably that weird conversation they'd had last night. Carlos was looking much the same.

"Hey, it's um, wait, no I've got this—Big Time Rush!" Mikey said, and the whole band turned to look. Big Time Rush was sweaty and tired from the snow, but Logan knew James wouldn't pass up the opportunity to network.

They made introductions and agreed to get lunch with the other band—what lunch there was; the staff appeared to have mostly given up on serving food. A loaf of bread and a few jars of peanut butter and jelly were laid out on one of the tables. Logan was starved after the snowball fight-cum-wrestling-match and the prospect of pb&j had his mouth watering, but the other band seemed less enthusiastic.

The eight of them sat around two pushed-together tables and ate their sandwiches with a minimum of talking from either Ray or Frank—they seemed to be either bored with the situation or else— "Sorry about them. Hangovers," Gerard stage whispered.

"Ah," Logan replied.

"So what did your people get up to last night?" Gerard asked, that damnable mischief in his eyes.

"Uh, nothing, really. Sleeping," Logan said, at a loss. Gerard was a bit of a mystery to him. It seemed like whatever he said, thee layers of things he _wasn't_ saying were buried beneath.

"But not like _that_," Kendall interjected with a glare. Kendall clearly hadn't gotten over his dislike.

"See how defensive they get?" Mikey told Ray gleefully. Ray managed a grunt and a deep swig of his water bottle.

"You?" Logan asked, ignoring them both.

"Eh, not much. Raided the mini bar. Passed out on the beds. Kicked Frank to stop his snoring."

"I don't snore," Frank protested weakly, turning huge hurt eyes on Gerard. Gerard shrugged.

"The real question, though, is what you're doing for the rest of the day," he said smoothly, apparently talking to all of them but turning to address the question to James, who sat to the left of where Logan headed the table.

Logan turned to look at James as well. The flush from the cold was receding from his face, highlighting just his cheekbones now. The heat inside the hotel was cranked up to at least seventy degrees, and after the chill of outside, they had all stripped down. James wore just his tank top and tight jeans, and with his damp hair flopping just so over his eyes and his muscled arms casually flexing as he spread more peanut butter on his sandwich, Logan couldn't help but admit he looked hot. No, more than that; he looked sexy. And from the way Gerard's eyes flickered over James' frame as he spoke, it was evident Gerard thought so too.

Logan was dimly aware of Mikey talking to Carlos and Kendall sitting in stony silence to match that of Ray and Frank, but all he could process was the wave of jealousy that washed over him at his realization. It was senseless. It lacked all reason. It went against logic. Logan was ashamed of himself.

"No plans," James said easily, flashing one of his toothpaste-model grins.

"I'd suggest strip poker, but I think your little friend might get mad," Gerard said, smirking and raising his eyebrows.

Apparently all Carlos had heard of that was the word 'poker,' because he piped up, "James is the best at poker. He's a total cardshark." Logan wanted to throttle him.

"Are you now?" Gerard said.

"I dabble," James demurred.

"You should come back up with us," Gerard said, scraping his teeth over his bottom lip, "and show me your technique."

Logan was flushing _for_ James, but James didn't even bat an eye. "Are you sure you're ready for skills this advanced?"

Gerard laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, I like him," he informed the table at large. "But seriously though, come with us. Five-person—er, I mean six-person," he corrected, glancing at Logan as if he'd forgotten he was there, "poker is hard to play with only four guys."

James opened his mouth, clearly about to accept, when Logan jumped in to save the situation. "Sounds like a great idea," he said. "I bet Kendall and Carlos would love to play. James, didn't you say you wanted to show me something? Er, _later_?"

James had been frowning at him in confusion, but at the word 'later,' recognition dawned. He smirked at Logan before turning back to Gerard.

"Oh, yeah, I'd forgotten about that. Carlos and Kendall are great at poker; you won't even miss me."

"Don't be too sure about that," Gerard said, running his eyes unashamedly down James' torso as James stood up. James preened.

"I'll see you later, Gerard." Tossing Gerard a wink—an actual _wink_, what the hell—James followed Logan out of the dining hall.

"See you later, Gerard," Logan mimicked in a girly voice once they were clear of the hall.

"What?" James said, laughing good-naturedly. "He's hot. C'mon, don't tell me you don't think so."

"Eh," Logan replied, waving the question away with a hand and determinedly not thinking of that dark night a few years ago he'd spent pretending it was Gerard's hand instead of his own on his cock. As far as he was concerned now, Gerard could fuck off.

"Gerard's bone structure aside, we still need condoms," James said, coming up beside him. "Unless you just want me to blow you." He sounded so matter-of-fact about it that Logan wheeled around to stare at him, finding James grinning at him devilishly.

And wow, that was a little too hot for the middle of a hotel hallway, so of course Logan retreated. "Technically safe sex would require a condom for blowjobs as well."

"Fuck that," James said lowly.

Logan bit his lip. "Condoms," he insisted.

"Then we're fucking."

"Fine."

"Fine," James replied snippily. They'd arrived at the hotel lobby, and James stalked over to the gift shop to grab a mini-pack of condoms off the wall. Logan would have been dying inside as the clerk rang them up, but James merely made small talk about their shared experience being snowed into a hotel.

"Where are we doing this?" he asked as he joined Logan once more. "Clearly not on a bed."

"We haven't done it on a bed since before the tour."

"Fond memories," James said, a hand to his heart. "So, who's the lucky bathroom-slash-supply-closet?"

"I have a hunch…" Logan said.

"I trust your hunches. Lead on."

They walked down a different hallway, one the directional plaques indicated led to the conference hall. Just as Logan suspected, it was empty and, from the looks of things, disused. A single-stall bathroom was set into the corner by the entrance to the hall.

"Sexy," James said, pulling open the door and flicking on the light.

"Bigger than the bus bathroom," Logan pointed out. He flipped the lock and tested the handle to make sure they wouldn't be disturbed. He had a sudden horrible image of Gerard coming to find them. He made a face, trying to shake the visual, but it wouldn't budge. James draped himself over Logan's back, pressing his junk into Logan's ass. He was definitely on the way to hard. James reached a hand around to cup him through his jeans.

"What gives?" he teased, finding Logan still soft.

"Can't get Gerard out of my head," Logan admitted. James snorted. "Not like that. I like the guy less every time we talk."

"I could kiss you. To clear your head," James added hurriedly, sounding maybe the tiniest bit shy. Logan blinked, still facing the door.

"O-okay," he said slowly. They'd kissed once before, back when they'd first started messing around, but it hadn't lasted long. It had felt too personal, for something that was supposed to be "helping each other out."

Logan turned around and James licked his lips before leaning down and fastening them to Logan's. James started softly, but Logan responded with more enthusiasm than he'd expected and within seconds their making out was hard and heavy and suddenly it was very, very urgent that they both be wearing far fewer clothes.

James pulled back to rid himself of the wifebeater and his jeans and boxer briefs. Naked, he began working on Logan's fly while Logan pulled off his sweater. Logan's pants and boxers were still around his knees as he tossed away his sweater, but he didn't care. He wrapped his arms around James' neck and pressed their chests together as he kissed him again. James seemed as reluctant to part their mouths as Logan was, and Logan could feel why they hadn't been doing this before. Kissing took away everything that had been impersonal about their fucking and replaced it with an experience in which Logan could literally feel James' heart beating where they were pressed together.

It was dangerous. Logan felt the tiny box in which he'd sequestered his James-feelings rattle and start to crack, threatening to let all his embarrassing emotions out to join the jealousy he'd felt rise within him when Gerard had practically been eye-fucking James at the table.

And oh, he was thinking about Gerard again. He rubbed himself against James and kissed him harder before pulling back to pant in his ear, "Lube?"

"Fuck," James whispered, turning to nip Logan's earlobe and drag his mouth over his cheek.

Logan wouldn't be distracted. "You forgot to buy lube?" he asked incredulously.

"C'mon, don't be mad," James wheedled, a sentiment that was easier to follow with James' hands stroking down his back to rest on his ass. "There's…soap—"

"I'm not having soap in my ass!" Logan hissed.

"Fine, I will," James replied, and kissed away any protests Logan might have thought of to voice. Logan tried to remember if the condoms James bought were latex and if industrial liquid soap would affect their structural makeup, but James was being very, very distracting, and besides, Logan knew he was clean, and suspected James was, too.

Logan kicked off his pants, backed up, and pumped the wall-mounted dispenser a few times to slick up his fingers. James followed him and pushed him up against the wall by the door, sliding a leg between Logan's to give him something to rub against. "Don't go slow," was the last thing he said before pushing both his hands into Logan's hair and reattaching their mouths, kissing him like he was trying to make up for all the times he _hadn't_ been kissing him.

Logan pushed in two fingers up to the second knuckle and crooked them, clearly hitting the right spot as James moaned into his mouth. He fucked James with his fingers for nearly a minute before getting down to the serious business of stretching him wide enough for his cock. James was panting by the end of it, mouth millimeters away from Logan's, eyes squeezed shut. He whined when Logan pulled away to find the condoms in James' jeans.

He rolled one on and coated his dick with more soap. James was there as soon as he looked up, leaning down to kiss him deeply. This time it was Logan who tried to follow James' mouth as he pulled away.

James turned and leaned over the sink, looking back over his shoulder with blown pupils and cherry-red lips. Logan was keenly aware that usually when they did this, they spent as much time joking around and laughing as they did getting off, which was fun and nice in its own way, but not like this. This was… This was serious.

James breathed out heavily as Logan pushed in. Logan draped himself over James' back when he was in as far as he could go. He bit the back of James' neck and James shivered under him. He wished there were a mirror mounted over the sink so he could watch James' face, but the glass was unfortunately placed on the opposite wall instead. "Okay?" he asked.

"Go," James said, more moan than anything else.

Logan pulled out to the tip and pushed back in, slowly and deliberately, making sure James felt every inch. James dropped his head to hang between his shoulders, letting out a soft groan. Logan sped up and kissed the side of James' neck, grinning against it at James' sharp "unng" when Logan found the angle to hit his prostate. James tightened sharply around him and Logan hissed in pleasure. Logan wrapped a hand around to work James' cock, and James cried out, arching his back.

"Shh," Logan warned when James got too loud.

"Paranoid," James panted, and moaned again.

"Pretend we're on the bus," Logan insisted. James craned his head back and it took Logan a second to realize he wanted to be kissed. He obliged happily, wondering at how natural it seemed to kiss James while they were joined.

They couldn't keep it up for long—the angle was bad; it hurt James' neck, but they didn't need much longer. Logan was hitting James' prostate with every thrust. "Logan," James gasped, and Logan couldn't remember if that was something it was okay for friends to do, moaning each other's names. It was hot.

Logan rubbed his thumb over the head of James' cock and James whined and came, pulsing into Logan's hand. He went limp under him and gave Logan a weak "hurry up." Logan did, but it took another thirty seconds for him to come. He went rigid with orgasm and collapsed onto James' back, tonguing the back of his neck.

James shifted uncomfortably, so Logan pulled out, keeping a hold on the base of the condom to keep it from slipping off. He wrapped it in paper towels and threw it away. James deposited himself with a thud on the lid of the toilet seat and grabbed Logan's wrist, pulling him down to straddle him. James kissed him again, almost drowsily, their tongues moving together in a slow slide. He felt as if he were melting into James and he loved it. James wrapped his arms around his back and it was Logan who pulled away first.

"That was good," he said, watching James carefully.

James smiled. "So good. Wanna break into an empty room and do it again on a bed?"

"Yes, I want to, and no, we're not going to."

"Spoilsport," James said, but he was laughing, and they kissed again, lazily. Logan wanted to stay there for hours, naked on James' lap, kissing him. It was not a thought he should be having, so he pulled away.

"They'll be wondering where we are," he began. James frowned and tightened his arms around him for just a fraction of a second as Logan got up.

"I guess," he sighed, but followed suit.

James was only half dressed and shifting uncomfortably by the time Logan had pulled on his clothes and gathered up all the outerwear they'd deposited at the door. Logan eyed him questioningly.  
>"You wanna wait outside for a minute?" James asked. "I'm gonna try to get some of this soap out of my ass."<p>

Logan laughed. "I told you!"

"Oh yeah, like I really regret it." He made a shooing motion and Logan slipped out to wait. James followed two minutes later, making a face at Logan's raised eyebrow. "I need a shower," he determined.

Logan grinned and checked his phone, eyes widening at the notification reading _12 new text messages_ on the screen. They were all from Kendall, begging him to come save them from MCR.

"The big baby," Logan muttered, showing the texts to James.

"You go on. I'll meet you there after I shower," James said, and they went their separate ways.


	3. Chapter 3

Logan knocked on the door to suite 201 and pushed it open. Ray and Frank were nowhere to be seen, but Mikey, Gerard, Kendall, and Carlos were gathered around the small coffee table in the center of the outer room, cards spread over the table. Kendall looked at him like a drowning man at a lifeboat.

"Logan! We were just trying to convince Kendall here to lose the shirt. He had the worst hand," Mikey said, and Kendall bristled once more. Logan thought Kendall was making it rather too easy for Mikey and Gerard to take the piss, but Kendall probably couldn't see that.

"Aw, leave him alone. I'll take his place," Logan said, taking pity on Kendall's discomfort even though he himself was crap at card games.

"Thank you," Kendall mouthed at him, getting up off the ground to toss himself sulkily into a chair off to the side.

"What did James have to show you?" Carlos asked, looking totally unbothered by Kendall's foul mood.

Logan should have been prepared for that question, but he wasn't. "Uh. The convention hall. It's very…big."

Gerard looked like he was trying to swallow a smirk. "And where is dear James now?"

"He's showering," Logan replied seconds before his brain blared, 'it's a trap!'

"I see," Gerard said, exchanging glances with Mikey. Gerard opened his mouth again, but Mikey shoved him so hard he almost fell over.

"Be nice, Gee," he said, and Logan was aware that his cheeks were on fire. He hoped Carlos and Kendall didn't notice anything.

They played poker and a few other card games for the next hour and a half. At some point Frank wandered in from the beds in the next room, looking a little better—Logan had to wonder just how much of the minibar they'd gotten into last night—and sat on the couch behind Gerard, commenting on his hands and getting smacked for it. They fell into easy conversation, despite the fact that the members of the other band were as close to thirty as Big Time Rush was to twenty. Once Logan got over his initial embarrassment, he found he didn't mind the jokes and innuendo that seemed to come as natural to the Way brothers as breathing. Even Kendall loosened up after awhile, and Carlos, of course, had never stopped being his happy-go-lucky self.

James texted him half an hour in, saying his little brother wanted to Skype to make sure he was alright. James himself arrived in person awhile after they switched from Texas hold 'em to gin rummy, wearing a form-fitting button down unbuttoned low enough to show he was definitely not wearing an undershirt. His jeans stretched over his ass when he turned to close the door behind him, and his hair shone as brightly as his teeth. He stole the spotlight and all of Gerard's attention the second he walked in the room, and Carlos by that point was more than happy to relinquish his place.

Fifteen minutes later, Logan was feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Gerard and James were deep in private conversation about music labels and famous artists they'd met. Mikey had attempted to keep the game going for a few minutes before it became clear that the other two barely remembered they were supposed to be playing cards at all. He'd shuffled the cards back together and made small talk with Logan about the weather while Logan eavesdropped on Gerard and James.

Kendall and Carlos left a few minutes later to follow James' example and Skype their families, and Logan declined the invitation to come with them. There was no way he was leaving James alone in MCR's hotel room. James had confessed to not having heard any of MCR's older music and Gerard had produced an ipod. James had one earbud and Gerard had the other, and consequently they were sitting much, much closer than Logan would have liked.

"Hey, Logan, c'mere. Science question," called Mikey from the window. Logan tore himself away from his jealous—_why are you jealous you shouldn't be jealous this is stupid_—staring and walked over to join him. "Do you think," Mikey began, "it'll snow more?"

"_That_ was your question?" Logan asked, frowning.

"Heh, no, I just wanted you over here. Let's talk."

Logan stared out at the gently falling flakes—which had mercifully slowed to light flurries—and waited.

"So you're secretly screwing James, you're in love with him, and you don't know how to deal. Does that cover everything?" His voice was warm, and thankfully absent of most of its usual mischief.

Logan's blood nevertheless ran cold.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, blushing to the tips of his ears.

"You're way obvious, you know. I think your other two bandmates must be pretty oblivious."

"Yeah, they are," Logan said before he could stop himself. Mikey's weak reflection in the glass smiled victoriously.

"Sorry about my brother. He thinks everyone is as freelove as he is."

"It's fine. There's nothing between us. We're just…ah…fuckbuddies. I guess."

"Is that what James thinks?"

"That's what _I _think," Logan insisted. Mikey's mouth twisted.

"Mm-hmm."

"Hey, is it true what you guys were saying last night?" Logan asked, voicing something that had been on his mind ever since he's heard it. "Do all bands sleep with each other on the road?"

"Nice change of topic. A lot of us do, yeah. I've heard stories, man. Dirty, dirty stories." Mikey laughed and drew a penis in the frost on the window. Logan snorted and wiped it away.

"Do you?" he asked, feeling bold.

"Me? Nah. The others? Hell yes. Gerard and Frank," he said in a conspiratorial whisper. "They think they're being sneaky."

Logan smirked, turning to look at the others again. Gerard had a hand on James' leg, pointing at something on the ipod with the other. Frank lay at the other end of the couch, feet pressed against Gerard's thigh. And yeah, Logan could see it.

"I don't have any advice for you," Mikey said, "except maybe not to let Gerard coax you guys into strip poker. I'm so not responsible for what goes down after something like that."

"Thanks," Logan said sarcastically, but his smile was real. "No offence, but I'm getting James out of here before your brother molests him any more."

"None taken. Gee's a horndog. Watch your boy, Logan. He's hot, legal, and currently single."

Logan made a face and walked up behind James, tugging the earbud out of his ear. The faint chorus of "Helena" echoed from the speaker and Logan glanced down to see that Gerard was playing the music video on his ipod. "Come on. I should Skype my family too. You can say hi to my mom."

"Logan…" James began, letting his name hang in the air.

"Please?" Logan asked. "You know Mom gets worried about you."

"That's just 'cause she thinks I'll be conned into prostitution one of these days. I'm not that dumb," James grumbled, but he got up and made his farewells to Gerard.

"Hey, James," Gerard said, "next time you want to 'show Logan something,' you could show me instead." He grinned lecherously.

James' eyes widened, but his face settled into a smirk. "Maybe I will. Catch you later, Gee."

They walked out together, Logan broiling in jealousy and James practically whistling. Logan knew James loved attention, loved being loved, but this was ridiculous.

XXXXXXXX

They all gathered around the screen to Skype Logan's family. Logan's mom loved all the boys and was happy to talk to them and provide them with ample warnings about death by frostbite and several other cold-weather maladies that had them all rolling their eyes good-naturedly and chorusing a succession of "yes ma'am"s.

"So what happened after we left?" Kendall asked. "Did Gerard try to sodomize you?"

"Jackass," James said lightly. "He's really a cool guy. And MCR has tons more experience than we do. We could learn a lot from them."

"I don't want to learn anything they're teaching," Kendall growled, and Logan stepped in before the disagreement could degenerate into a real fight.

"Who's up for a movie?" he threw out hopefully, and Carlos, predictably, was all for it. They piled onto the beds and surfed through the pay-per-view selections, arguing the merits of _Transformers _versus _Underworld_. Carlos—who had control of the remote—flipped curiously through the adult section, but clearly the subject of sex was looking a little raw at the moment, because none of them commented on any of the titles or suggested they watch one.

They finally settled on the old _Mission: Impossible_ and watched it for awhile until the catchy theme song loosened them all up and they fell to talking and joking once more. Natalie was sending Kendall regular reports on the goings-on of management and snowmobiles both, which Kendall relayed to the rest of them.

The movie played out and they scattered to their phones and laptops while Carlos insisted they watch Iron Chef on the Food Network. Before long, Kendall snapped his laptop shut and flopped on his back. "I'm boooored," he moaned.

"Go to sleep," James suggested from where he was facebook chatting with a few friends.

"Not tired. Hey, let's go exploring. Wanna check out the kitchens? Maybe we can convince the staff to make something other than sandwiches for dinner."

Carlos was game but James was busy. Apparently Jenny Tinkler was in the hospital with a broken hip, and he was cheering her up. Logan elected to stay in the room to finish the research he'd been doing on possible science fair projects—he might have hit on something genius in altering snow density.

"Fine, losers. Text us if you want in. I sense adventure!" Kendall said, raising a finger to punctuate his point.

"If we're not back by six-thirty, we've probably been captured, or worse, so you should start worrying," Carlos advised as they swung out the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Logan mumbled, only half-listening. There was real work to be done here.

Five minutes later, James shut his laptop and said, "I'm booored," in such an exact imitation of Kendall that Logan had to laugh.

"Go play with Kendall and Carlos, then," Logan said, not looking up from the article he was reading.

"But I'd rather play with you," James purred, sliding onto the bed and tugging Logan's laptop away from him. Logan's eyes darted to the door, then the clock. 5:15.

"Really? We just fucked earlier," Logan said hesitantly.

"Ain't no limit on teenage hormones," James sang, getting up to deposit Logan's laptop on the table and slide the chain on the door into place.

"And remember this morning? When we nearly _got caught_ in this room?"

"Eh, they won't be back for, like, an hour. C'mon, Logan. I'm horny," he whined. "Bet I could get you in the mood."

"Fine," Logan said. "Come here." He slipped down on the bed to rest his head on the pillow and James crawled over him to brace himself on his elbows. He looked down at Logan's face for a moment before leaning down, very slowly, to catch Logan's lips in a kiss, and…_oh_.

The kiss was slower than Logan would have expected, and sweeter, just presses of lips and deep swipes of tongues. Logan opened his eyes after a moment to find James looking at him, too. They held each other's gaze even as Logan flushed, and he felt James smile into the kiss. Logan wrapped his arms around James' back and pulled him down to lie flush against him. James broke away to kiss along his jaw and down his neck, where he licked and sucked at the skin.

Logan sucked in a breath. "No marks," he warned.

"No fun," came James' muffled reply. He pulled himself back to Logan's mouth and licked in deeply. Logan wormed his hands between them to undo his pants, shoving them down just enough before turning his fingers to James' fly.

"Still no lube," Logan muttered against James' mouth.

"Doesn't matter. We've already…done that." James was struggling with coherency. "Let's just…" He left the thought unfinished, rolling them over so Logan was on top. James arched up a little to grind against him, and Logan matched him with eager circles of his hips and a hiss of pleasure.

James sucked his fingers into his mouth and spat a little into his palm before pushing the hand down the back of Logan's pants. He pushed a finger inside him and crooked it, and then Logan's body couldn't figure out whether it wanted to push back against the finger or forward against James' cock. James rubbed mercilessly against his prostate for a few seconds; Logan was crying out in James' face by the time he eased off. "Jesus," Logan whined, rutting down against him.

James pushed two fingers in, then three, not trying to stretch Logan at all, just fucking him with them. He added more spit every now and then to keep things slick. Logan was breathing hard and grunting every other thrust, but James seemed slightly more composed, almost smug. "Good?" James asked.

Deciding he couldn't manage words, Logan kissed him in response, sloppy and desperate. "James," he mumbled, and James shoved his fingers in and rubbed hard. Logan shuddered with orgasm, coming over James' stomach. He rolled off James to sprawl over the bed in exhaustion, half on his side, face turned towards James. James turned to face him and kissed him gently.

"Lemme… Lemme catch my breath," Logan panted, trailing still-shaky fingers down to brush over James' cock. He gave himself fifteen more seconds before pushing James onto his back and crawling down to wrap his lips around the head of his dick. He suckled for a moment before taking him deeper, licking and sucking and fondling his balls. James' hands stroked over Logan's hair, but he was polite about it and didn't shove or grab.

He wasn't trying to draw it out, but apparently James had unlocked some kind of reserve of stamina, because it took nearly two minutes for him to come. James tugged him off before he orgasmed and finished himself with two strokes of his own hand. He went rigid and Logan watched as come pooled on his stomach to join the white streaks of Logan's own.

James had kissed Logan through Logan's afterglow, so Logan returned the favor, finding James sweet and pliant beneath him. James smiled sedately when Logan pulled away. "Not bored anymore," he said.

"I'd be offended if you were," Logan returned, settling back against the pillows and ignoring the way his jeans caught at his skin where they had ended up around his knees.

"Up for another round?" James asked, and Logan looked at him with a shocked laugh.

"You're not serious."

"I mean, I could totally go again in a minute or two—teenage stamina, Logan, that's a science thing, right?—but no, I'm kidding. I could go for a nap, though."

"Yeah, that's a science thing. Teenage boys have incredibly short refractory periods, and teenage girls have even shorter. It's due to the—"

"Yeah, sure, tell me about it later, huh?" James said, closing his eyes, but he couldn't keep the smirk off his face and a second later he cracked an eye to see what Logan was doing.

What Logan was doing was getting up to wet a wad of tissues to clean James off—he'd caught both their loads on his stomach. He hiked his jeans back on on the way to the bathroom, realizing his underwear was well-stained with precome by this point. He tossed the tissues to James when he returned and waited while James wiped away the come, then disposed of the wad in the toilet and flushed it. James really did look like he might go to sleep, so Logan poked him until he at least did up his pants before rolling over to nap.

The clock only read 5:30, so Logan retrieved his laptop and continued his research until Kendall and Carlos came back, babbling about helping the staff prepare spaghetti for the whole hotel.

XXXXXXXX

MCR was thankfully absent when they went down for dinner, and with the home-style spaghetti and the conversation flowing among band and crew, it really did feel like a normal night on the road. Natalie kept reflexively checking her phone for updates, though, and Billy was worried about the wheels on the bus and the transmission fluid, so it was hard to forget their precarious position, career-wise.

Martin had been checking the message boards off and on over the course of the day to monitor the reactions to BTR's apology video, and he reported a mostly positive reception from the fans.

"Of course they understand," Carlos said. "They know there's nothing we can do." Carlos had infinite faith in their fans. Logan was a bit more wary of them, having read one too many stories of fans turned violent and arrests for stalking, not to mention how easily public opinion was swayed.

Dinner was over much too quickly, and soon the four were back in their room again.

"The Palm Woods lobby is fun to hang out in; this one's just depressing," James had determined when Logan had suggested they chill downstairs rather than cooped up in their room.

"Argh, I'm _so bored_," Carlos groaned, falling onto the bed and rolling around. "I feel like I'm coming out of my skin."

Kendall stood and put his hands on his hips; Logan could tell he was about to say something leader-like. "We," he intoned, "are four best friends who have spent _countless_ hours with nothing but each other's company. We can _surely_ keep ourselves entertained." He paused, and they all waited for him to suggest something. Eventually he shrugged. "I got nothing. James?" Carlos and Logan groaned.

"I could fix Logan's hair," he offered. "No offense, but I think a flatter look would suit you better."

"No way," Logan said, warding him off as Kendall turned to Carlos for salvation.

"Or…wait!" James said, looking at his phone. "Text from Gerard."

"He gave you his number?" Kendall scoffed. James gave him the finger.

"He says they restocked their minibar and we should come help them empty it."

"'We'?" Logan asked skeptically.

"Okay, he said me, but I'm sure it'd be fine if we all came. Yeah?" He looked around at them all hopefully.

"Absolutely not," Kendall said, shoving Carlos before he could agree. "There is no way in hell we're getting drunk with those guys."

"Aw, c'mon," James whined, looking to Logan for backup.

Logan wouldn't give it to him, but there might be a better solution… "Hey, who says we need to drink with MCR? We have our own minibar." James frowned at him, but Kendall rallied to the idea, kneeling down in front of the little fridge and poking around inside.

"Three beers and assorted liquors in those tiny bottles. A bottle of wine, too."

"Do we have shot glasses?" Carlos asked, coming up behind him.

"Nope. Only those water glasses."

"Classy," Carlos said with a laugh, going to fetch them.

Logan settled on the bed to wait, making idle conversation with James, who had resigned himself to not seeing Gerard for the rest of the night. Logan privately thought drinking was more or less a waste of time, but he went along with the others. They were lightweights, all of them, but Logan could understand that having a drink in hand made you feel cool. He just hoped no one got too smashed tonight, especially Kendall. He was completely nasty when he had a hangover.

"Drinking game?" Carlos asked, handing out glasses into which Kendall was pouring a few inches of wine from the small bottle.

"Never have I ever?" Kendall suggested, and Logan groaned.

"Oh, please no. We've done that too many times. You know everyone's dirty secrets by now." Behind him, James laughed quietly and Logan thought about kicking him.

"Fine. Suggestions?" The others were silent. "Does anyone actually _know_ any other drinking games?"

"Uhh…" Carlos said.

"Whatever," James said, sipping his wine like a gentleman and making a face as soon as it hit his tongue. "This is awful."

"Hotel wine. What did you expect?" Logan said, taking a gulp. James was right; it was seriously cheap stuff.

"Drain it and I'll get that thing of vodka," Kendall promised. Carlos flipped on the tv again and found Scrubs.

"Oh, I've got one! Drink every time J.D. does a voiceover," he suggested. There were general murmurs of assent and they settled back to watch. An episode and a half later, they had finished the wine, the vodka, the tiny bottle of tequila that had yielded only half a shot for each of them, and Kendall had gotten up to get the beers.

"Only three," he said, staring at the fridge.

"You guys have them. I'm fine," Logan assured him, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He felt muzzy and knew he was well over the legal limit for driving. Well, the legal BAC limit was 0.0 for someone his age, he thought, and laughed out loud. The others joined him for some reason. Carlos burped and they all laughed again.

That was enough alcohol for Logan. He'd had…let's see…a glass and a half of wine, two shots of vodka, and half a shot of tequila. That meant he'd be sober again in…a while. Some number of hours. His brain wasn't functioning too well. He settled back to watch the show.

The others finished their beers well into the third episode, and when Kendall stumbled into the wall trying to get to the fridge, Logan decided they'd all had enough. "No more," he said, grabbing the remote from Carlos and pushing Kendall back onto the bed.

"Nooo," Kendall giggled. "He pushed me!"

"'M not drunk," Carlos said stubbornly.

"Yes you are," Logan said, grateful that the last half-hour had cleared his head just enough to permit rational thought and body movements. He dragged the desk chair in front of the minibar, blocking the door to the fridge. "No more," he said again. They were all such lightweights, and the other three had had an extra beer.

James hadn't said anything, and when Logan glanced at him he found him staring back, following his every movement.

"Logan I need a drink! He did another voiceover!" Carlos shouted, too loudly.

"Have a pretend drink," Logan advised, and Carlos did, sipping at an imaginary glass and laughing tipsily. Logan changed the channel and crawled back on the bed. James turned to continue staring at him, and Logan decided he was still too tipsy to deal with it. "TV's over there, James," he said, and James reluctantly turned to watch.

_ Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ was on, and Logan resigned himself to hearing Kendall and Carlos rhapsodize about eating nothing but candy all day. Somewhere near the middle James knocked his foot into Logan's and Logan kicked back, and somehow he ended up with one sock-covered foot resting on top of James'. It was comfortable and he didn't think much of it.

By the end of the movie Kendall was crashed and Carlos was snoring. It _was_ nearly eleven, which was a late enough hour to go to sleep, so Logan hauled himself out of bed to pull the blanket at the foot of the bed out from under their toes and drape it over the bed—it was a chilly night. He was pleased to find himself nearly sober, which was a relief. If he was being honest with himself, one of the main reasons he didn't like alcohol was the way it made him lose control of his brain. It scared him, just a little.

"Such the mom," James murmured, and Logan turned. It was one of the first times he'd spoken in hours. Logan stripped out of his jeans and sweater and shut off the light, coaxing James to do the same. He followed directions without too many false moves, which was comforting.

"Are you sober?" Logan asked.

"Nope," James admitted, pawing back the blankets.

Logan sighed and crawled under the covers after James, turning on his side to face the other bed. "Logan," James whispered. Logan grunted. "Logan," he insisted, and Logan rolled over to face him, finding himself nearly nose-to-nose with his friend. "We're being rescued tomorrow," James told him. His breath smelled like beer and then he nudged forward and kissed Logan, and his mouth tasted like beer too.

"You wanna fuck _again_?" Logan asked, confused, after a few seconds of enjoying James' tongue.

"No. Just wanna…kiss you."

"You're drunk," Logan informed him.

"'M not _that_ drunk," James protested, and in fact his eyes looked disconcertingly clear. Logan was torn, sure that this wasn't really "friends with benefits" territory. "Logan," James breathed, and Logan threw his concerns to the wind.

James reached up to cup the side of his face as they made out, his palm warm and heavy on Logan's skin. Logan scooted closer to press against him, careful to keep his groin out of the contact. Kissing he'd do, but there was no way in hell he'd let himself be coerced into fooling around three feet from where Kendall and Carlos slept. James slipped a leg between Logan's, tangling them together. It was warm and safe and, there in the wash of moonlight bouncing off snow that bathed the bed, Logan felt the little box he'd packed all of his James-feelings into shatter completely.

But that could wait until morning to be dealt with.


	4. Chapter 4

Logan woke up to Kendall's cell ringing. He had pulled far enough away from James for the proximity not to be incriminating before he'd gone to sleep, but they were still facing each other, which was a little weird. Still, he doubted Kendall or Carlos would notice or care, considering the level of profanity Kendall was spewing as he clutched at his head and fumbled for his phone.

"'Lo?" he said in a voice like death. He waited while the person on the other end talked, then replied, "Yeah, that sucks, Natalie. I'm sure everything will be fine. I'm gonna sleep now, okay? Bye." He tossed the phone into a corner and burrowed under the covers again.

"What's the problem?" Logan called. Kendall groaned and swore at him. "Kendall," he ordered.

"My head hurts," Kendall whined. "Nat says the snowplows were redirected down a detour a few hours from here to dig out a hospital."

"And?"

"And we won't be rescued until tonight or tomorrow. Now shut up," he moaned.

"Lightweight," Logan muttered, glancing at the clock. It was already ten AM, but if they didn't have anywhere else to be today, he supposed it didn't matter how late they slept. Logan was already awake, though, so he swung himself out of bed and took a quick shower. A light headache was all he had to show for last night's drinking, so he ran downstairs to the gift shop after he'd dressed to buy some advil and bottled water, intending to leave it all out for the others when they woke up. He was _so_ the band mom, he thought with a laugh.

He met Freight Train and Martin on the way back to the elevators. They filled him in on the snowplow situation. Freight Train seemed calm about the whole ordeal, but Martin was a nervous wreck. Apparently Gustavo had already called him twice that morning. Logan patted him on the shoulder awkwardly and made some hollow reassurances before escaping upstairs, shielding exactly what was in the plastic bag from the other two as well as he could. He didn't know their policy on underage drinking, but he didn't want to risk it.

He set his purchases on the dresser and went back to work on his laptop. He managed to get his whole science project outlined and the citations for his various articles drawn up before the others finally began stirring at noon. James was the first up, looking at him blearily before honing in on the water and drugs on the dresser. He grabbed some of each and ensconced himself in the bathroom for his usual morning primping.

Logan remembered the feel of James snuggled close last night, kissing him softly, and bit his lip. He wanted that again, to be allowed to touch James, to kiss James, when they weren't fucking. To be able to press close without having to slug him on the shoulder and call him 'buddy' afterwards to balance it out. It was a strange feeling, a sort of feminine feeling, Logan thought, and tried to push it away. It wouldn't budge.

Carlos and Kendall emerged from their blanket cave after James vacated the bathroom and were as grateful to empty their bladders as they were for the advil. Kendall showered and Carlos sat cross-legged on the bed, head in his hands and making shushing noises every time one of the other two said anything. Carlos apparently had got the worst of it—when they discussed going down for breakfast, he begged them, "Don't talk about food. Please. Ughhh," which was alarming, coming from him.

James, Logan, and a pissy, hungover Kendall eventually went down for the peanut butter and jelly they knew awaited them, leaving Carlos nursing a water bottle in a mound of blankets. The crew had already eaten, according to the text on Kendall's phone, so they ate at a small table near the window. No more snow had fallen the night before, and unless Logan was imagining things, it looked like the buildup was starting to melt. Logan fervently hoped the temperature kept rising—it would be just their luck for the watery runoff from the melting snow to freeze into a dangerous coating of ice that delayed the snowplows further.

James gradually perked up over breakfast, until he was back to his normal airy self. Even Kendall was looking decidedly less pale by the time they wrapped two sandwiches in napkins to take back up to Carlos in the hopes he would eat something. James whistled what Logan realized after a few bars was My Chemical Romance's "Teenagers." Logan forced back a scowl. He'd almost forgotten the other band was in the hotel. He walked ahead with Kendall to get away, and the whistling had died by the time they reached the elevators. Kendall punched the button and Logan looked around, suddenly aware that James had vanished.

"James?" he called, but there was no response. "You go ahead," he told Kendall as the doors opened. "I'll look for him."

Kendall agreed and Logan backtracked through the hotel, getting halfway to the dining hall before he heard voices. Specifically, James' and Gerard's voices. He gritted his teeth and followed the sound until he came to a sharp bend in the hallway, sure that the two were just around the corner. A huge potted plant was placed against the wall, and it's fronds were large enough to hide Logan's head while still giving him a good view as he peeked around the corner to see what was going on.

Gerard had James backed against the wall, one leg planted dominantly between James'. He wasn't much shorter than James, but his spiky red hair made up for it. James was grinning, leaning against the wall like he owned the space, like he could and maybe would push off and leave at any moment.

"…and you didn't reply to my text last night," Gerard was saying.

"Did it hurt your feelings?" James teased, pouting.

"It did. I was crushed. And I had no one there to help me feel better."

"I'm so sorry. Anything I can do to make it up to you?" James asked with a bit of a purr in his voice. Logan's heart clenched.

"Why don't you come by my room later? I can show you more of my…_music_." Gerard reached out a hand and ran it down James' side. James caught it as it neared his ass.

"Sure. I'll bring the band. You're so much more _experienced_ than we are. I'm sure you've got a lot to teach us."

James was only saying what he'd told Logan last night, but somehow, saying it like this made it sound filthy. James was in his element like this, but Logan had never seen him seduce another man, especially not one who seemed so dominant. James had turned himself into something sultry, something that was all hooded eyes and dark looks and wet lips. It was hot and Logan hated him for it.

"Let's stop this song and dance," Gerard said with a smirk. "I don't want your band. I want _you_. In my bed, naked." He leaned in to wisp a breath in James' ear. "I wanna fuck you," he rasped, so low Logan had to strain to hear.

James ran the hand that wasn't gripping the other man's wrist up Gerard's front, stopping to fan his fingers over his chest. Logan burned with jealousy, feeling sick. Then, suddenly, James flexed his muscles and pushed Gerard away. "Listen, Gee," he said, in a normal voice, "you're hot, and flirting with you has been all kinds of fun, but…" He licked his lips. "I'm not going any further."

Gerard and Logan both blinked. "Why?" Gerard asked, looking lost, and Logan had to agree with him. James had certainly been leading him in that direction.

"Um, don't take this the wrong way, but I'm sort of taken?" James bit his lip, looking embarrassed.

"Taken? Jesus, by who?" Gerard's face was a mass of confusion, but then it cleared, leaving him looking amused more than anything else. "Oh wait. Don't tell me it's that one you're screwing—Logan?" Logan's heart leaped to his throat as James flushed red. "Just because you're banging him doesn't mean you're his, you know."

James shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and looked down. "I don't want to talk about it." Gerard huffed an annoyed sigh and James quirked a smile. "Hey, sorry about this. It's been fun, yeah? No hard feelings?"

"Was I this much trouble at eighteen?" Gerard muttered, looking James up and down with obvious lust. "Ah, fuck it. We're cool. Hey, let me kiss you. Just once."

"Just once," James agreed, leaning in. Gerard's eyes closed and at the last second, James turned his head and kissed Gerard softly on the cheek. Gerard gave a startled laugh.

"Bastard!" he called as James walked away, in the direction of the dining hall. "Hey, James, if you ever find yourself single, come find me. You're the hottest thing in Minnesota!"

"In LA, too," James yelled back cockily, turning to give Gerard a sweeping bow before disappearing into the dining hall. Gerard stared after him, hands on his hips, before laughing to himself and turning. Logan scampered, racing around the next turn and hiding behind a sofa in the lobby until he saw Gerard and his flaming red hair disappear into the bank of elevators. Then, heart pounding, he went after James.

He crept into the dining hall on tiptoe, seeing James slumped in a chair at a little two-person table in the corner. James jumped a little when he noticed him.

"Oh. Logan. Hi."

"Where'd you go? I thought you were right behind us," Logan said, dropping into the chair opposite him.

"I, uh, ran into Gerard. We were talking." James wouldn't quite meet his eye.

Logan steeled himself. "I know. I saw. And heard."

James stared at him, eyes wide and going a little pale. "How much did you hear?" he asked nervously.

"I think I only missed the very beginning," Logan said. James closed his eyes.

"Fuck," he whispered.

"Were you just saying all that to make him go away?"

James was silent for nearly a minute. "James?" Logan prodded. James ran a hand through his perfect hair, messing it up. When he spoke, his voice was shaky.

"I can't decide if I should say yes or no to that."

"Why would you say no?" Logan asked, hope flaring in his chest.

"Because it would be the truth," James said, and Logan's heart fluttered.

"James, what are we?" Logan asked, catching his gaze and not looking away. James was silent again and looked a little scared. "I don't think we're just fuck buddies," Logan continued. "I think we might be…um…" He slanted a smile and didn't finish.

"And you're okay with that?" James asked, glancing away out the window behind Logan.

"I am perfect with that," Logan said, and finally James smiled and blushed a little. "I'd kiss you, but I think we might scandalize the chef who's been watching us from the kitchen back there."

James laughed, and Logan joined in, and when they finally walked back to the elevators together, Logan bumped his shoulder against James' and James brushed the backs of their hands together.

Neither of them had confessed anything, not really. There were pages of words they hadn't said, but Logan was relieved. They had _talked_—sort-of—and nothing had been ruined. In fact, he thought he might have been saved. He absently began to organize the new dynamics of their relationship, but then James caught his eye in the elevator and he forgot why he was trying.

XXXXXX

The rest of the day passed normally, with all of them hanging around in the hotel room as lazy and bored as they'd been last night. They absolutely _had_ to get out of there before too long or Logan suspected they might turn down a dark path for entertainment. Carlos recovered from his hangover fairly quickly after he'd choked down his sandwiches and begged Kendall to go down and get him three or four more. Then Kendall discovered a website on which you could paste your head onto dancing elves, and watching the video over and over and over again occupied them for a good hour. It was as if nothing had changed, really, except that Logan and James kept catching each other's eye and smiling self-consciously.

The sun was setting when Kendall's phone rang, and when he answered it they could all hear Natalie's excited "The snowplows will pass us in an hour!"

"We're saved!" Carlos crowed

"How's the bus? Ready to go? Maybe we can still make it to the next venue," Kendall said into the phone, and he and Natalie continued their strategizing while the others shoved clothes and, in James' case, hair products, into duffel bags. Kendall hung up and they rushed to the lobby to wait.

"Does MCR know?" James wondered, sitting on the edge of one of the couches. Logan looked up from where he was pacing in front of the windows.

"I don't know. Text Gerard." James raised his eyebrows, but did as told. My Chemical Romance arrived in the lobby just as the snowplows rumbled past the drive, tossing snow off to either side to form walls eight feet high. Big Time Rush cheered while Natalie looked like she might faint from relief. The snowplows faded into the distance and Kendall stood up, shouldering his duffel.

"Can we go now?" he asked.

"Uh, guys?" Martin was staring out the window, brow furrowed. "I think we have a problem."

"No! No problems!" Natalie moaned.

"The snowplows cleared the road…" Martin began.

"…But not the parking lot," Logan finished. "There's still almost five feet of snow covering the lot! The cars are still buried!"

"You're kidding," Mikey said, laughing as he came to stand next to Logan.

"What are we gonna do?" Carlos said shrilly. "Wait for it all to melt?"

"Our bus is still on the road, so if we can walk to it we'll be fine," James said.

"We can't just leave Natalie's car and the rest of the cars stranded here…" Logan argued unwillingly.

"Don't be dumb," Kendall told them all. "I have a plan."

Twenty minutes later, Big Time Rush, My Chemical Romance, the hotel staff, a handful of assorted hotel guests, and various crew members were bundled up in eight layers of coats and sweaters and trudging outside, snowshovels in hand. The hotel apparently kept a storage room full of them—something about a screwed-up shipment with one too many zeroes.

Billy and Martin had left, shoving their way through the snow to reach the road. The plan was for them to drive the BTR tourbus over to the hotel driveway to pick up the boys when their shoveling was done. Logan watched them make their slow, steady way across the lot. It looked like a lot of work.

"All we need to do," Kendall called to the assembled group, "is shovel pathways that the MCR bus and the cars can use to get to the road. We don't need to clear the whole lot."

"Uhhh…" Gerard began, leaning on his shovel. "You do realize that there are cars in about eight different areas of the lot?"

"We'll split up," Kendall asserted with undiminished confidence. "Everyone pick a spot and get shoveling!"

"C'mon," James said from behind Logan. "Let's go take that one." He pointed to a lone red truck off to the left, partially hidden behind the tops of a trio of topiaries sticking out of the snow. Logan followed him over to it. The going was as slow as he'd suspected watching Martin and Billy attempt it; they were forced to bodily shove their way through the piled snow to reach the truck. While the snow had melted a bit since yesterday, there was certainly enough to make things difficult. They took turns breaking trail and when they got to the truck, they worked their way behind it and shoved armfulls of snow off the bed to create a space to sit.

"That was exhausting," James said, leaning back against the snow still piled behind him.

"We haven't even started yet."

"Fuck, I know."

"Okay, so the truck is about…oh…five feet wide, so we'll need a path about six feet wide, at an angle of let's say…" Logan trailed off, lost in his calculations. After a few moments of tracing his formulas in the air as he thought, Logan was suddenly dragged onto his back by a sharp tug on his hood. "James, what the hell."

"You know…no one can see us back here." Logan could practically _hear _him waggling his eyebrows.

"Whatever you're thinking, stop thinking it. I'm not doing anything out here in the cold."

James barked a laugh. "So you're more worried about your butt freezing than us getting caught? Interesting."

"It's not like that! I have vital bits of anatomy to protect," Logan replied hotly. He was no exhibitionist.

"Sure, sure," James said, and suddenly he was looming over Logan and leaning in. Logan shoved him off.

"My nose is runny." Logan snuffed for emphasis.

"I don't care."

"Ew," Logan said decisively, pushing himself up and off the truck bed. James reluctantly followed. "Basically, we don't have to get to the road from here; we just have to join up with the path Freight Train is digging over there. No sharp corners or curves, which will add more work, unfortunately."

James sighed and they began shoveling, working side by side and dumping the snow on top of the already towering drifts. It was long, hard work: the snow was so deep that it took three or four shovelfulls to even reach the ground, and hefting the snow was exhausting. Logan was ready to drop by the time they'd gone ten feet. It was unfortunate that they were in the spacious back lot instead of clearing the small hotel-front parking—it would take the group ages to work around the hotel and to the road. It was full dark only fifteen minutes in and hard to see with only the glow from the streetlights placed at intervals around the perimeter of the lot to guide them.

"All right, boys?" Freight Train called to them from the other side of the lot after half an hour.

"Yeah," they chorused, sounding totally worn down.

Freight Train was having better luck—his size allowed him to push through the snow like it was cotton candy, and he'd abandoned his shovel in favor of this less effortful manner of clearing.

"I'll come help you when I'm done," Freight Train promised.

"Thanks," Logan yelled back.

"Okay, this is ridiculous," James muttered, pitching two quick shovelfulls of snow to the side and tamping down the remaining two-foot-high wedge. He turned and plopped down on top of it, grabbing a fistful of snow to munch on.

"That might not be safe to eat…" Logan said as he cleared his own snow chair to make it a snow bench.

"Fuck it. I'm tired. Now come here," he said, grabbing Logan's arms and dragging him close. Sighing, Logan resigned himself to cold knees and straddled his friend. They were hidden from sight by the towering walls of snow all around them, but when James tried to pull him down again for a kiss, Logan still stopped him. James opened his mouth to say something, but Logan merely held up a finger. He rummaged in his coat pocket and extracted a tissue, skinning off his gloves to blow his nose with a honk.

James shook with laughter under him. "Sexy."

"Shut up," Logan said, and pulled on his gloves again before pushing their chapped lips together. James' mouth and James' body were so warm that Logan felt himself relaxing into him, glad of a respite from the cold that was descending with ever-increasing speed now that night was upon them.

James slid his hands down the slick material of Logan's coat to rest on his ass, pulling him closer. Logan was on his way to hard, but with his long underwear and ski pants, he had no hope of getting relief. He rubbed against James' stomach twice and groaned in frustration.

"This is such a tease," he muttered against James' mouth.

"Warmed you up though, right?"

"I'm hotter than I need to be right now, thank you _so_ much." Logan slid off of James and offered him a hand.

"My butt was going numb anyway," James said. They returned to shoveling, and nearly an hour later, with Freight Train's help, they'd cleared a path snaking around the building to join up with one of the trails Ray and Frank had blazed out front. Kendall and Carlos joined them after clearing paths for a few cars in the front lot, and together the four of them dug out the remaining four cars in the back.

They regrouped by the bus at eight PM. It was parked just outside the drive, looking only slightly the worse for wear. Martin and Billy were arguing over the engine while Natalie scraped ice off of what seemed to be every possible surface. Across the lot, the My Chemical Romance band and crew seemed to be in a similar situation.

"Is it working?" Kendall asked anxiously.

"Shorted out twice on the way over, but I reckon we got it fixed now. Let's us see," Billy said. "Fire it up, Freight Train!"

The bus roared into life and Natalie handed them the keys to the back. Carlos had the door open and was inside in about five seconds, Kendall following.

"Hey, shouldn't we say goodbye?" James asked.

"To the hotel staff? I think they're just glad we're gone," Kendall called from inside. Logan stuck his head in to find Kendall stripping off his winter gear by the couch.

"I think he means to MCR," Logan said.

"Oh. I think I've personally had quite enough of them. Feel free, though."

"Carlos?" Logan asked.

Kendall craned his neck to look into the bunk area. "He's asleep."

Logan had to laugh. "We'll be back soon." Kendall made a face, but Logan ignored him.

He and James set off down one of the newly-cleared paths to the MCR bus and were excitedly hailed by the band once they got close.

"We came to say goodbye," Logan said awkwardly. Mikey pulled them both in for a silly group hug but as usual, Gerard had eyes only for James.

"If we ever cross paths again, just call me. I'll get you tickets and backstage passes," he said.

"Likewise," James replied. "If you can bear the screaming girls."

"We have our share," Mikey said, laughing.

James allowed Gerard to embrace him, and Logan narrowed his eyes as Gerard whispered something into James' ear. "Dick," James said as he pulled back, but he was laughing. The BTR bus honked twice, and James returned to Logan.

"We've got to go," he said.

"I'm sure we'll see you soon," Mikey said. Ray and Frank waved, and Logan and James turned to go.

Logan barely waited until they were out of earshot before rounding on James. "What did he say?" he demanded.

"Jealous much?" James said breezily, but he answered. "He said he wouldn't mind a threesome with me and my boyfriend. He was probably kidding. Maybe."

"Ugh." Logan shoved James into the snowbank and ran the rest of the way back to the bus.

XXXXXXXX

Author's Note:

Hey, so remember last chapter when these idiots couldn't think of a good drinking game to play that wasn't Never Have I Ever? Basically I've determined that _no one_ knows any other good drinking games. Please prove me wrong! If you can describe a good drinking game I haven't heard of (and please none with cards, dice, movies, or tv; that's waaaay too much effort for drunk people), I'll write you a teeny smut ficlet. Either tell me about the game in the reviews of this story or through messaging.

And speaking of reviews, if you haven't already done so (yes, I see you out there, shuffling your feet and looking shifty), I'd be chuffed if you left me a few words. :)


	5. Chapter 5

Billy was taking the roads slowly—the damage to the inner workings of the bus had been minimal, but he was still worried, and in any case the roads were icy enough to put any driver on edge. They wouldn't reach Detroit until the next day, even driving through the night like Billy planned. Natalie was wondering if they shouldn't just skip Detroit and head on to Columbus early for the next show, but it was late and Gustavo wasn't answering his cell.

Kendall and Carlos were sacked out in their bunks, and Logan was fighting drowsiness himself. The shoveling had taken it out of all of them, but he and James had made coffee when they boarded the bus and the hit of caffeine had helped.

"They're dead to the world," James observed, leaning against the wall to regard their sleeping bandmates who hadn't even bothered to pull the curtains on their bunks. He cupped his steaming coffee mug in both hands.

Logan hummed an agreement, not really listening as he rolled his shoulders and debated the sanitation of putting his feet up on the breakfast table. He arched and his back cracked alarmingly. "I am so sore," he whined.

James huffed a laugh, coming to stand behind him. "A little snow shoveling too much for you? LA's made you soft." His hands were on Logan's shoulders, though, massaging, so any snappy comeback Logan might have had was lost in a deep sigh. He felt the tension bleed out into James' strong, heavy hands working up and down his back. Suddenly there was light pressure on the back of his head, and James' warm breath in his hair. He startled, turning to meet James' embarrassed gaze.

Something warm expanded through his chest and, sanitation be damned, he hoisted himself up onto the table and pulled James between his legs. Their lips met softly and James dropped his hands to Logan's hips. Logan slipped his tongue into James' mouth and curled it with James'. He tasted like coffee, but Logan probably did too.

"Remind me again why we weren't doing this before," James said after a moment.

"We were just fuck buddies," Logan replied, threading the short hair at the base of James' neck through his fingers.

"Fuck buddies kiss," James protested.

"Good for them," Logan said cagily, and James worked his thumbs under the hem of Logan's shirt.

"But we're not fuck buddies," James said, and Logan thought there might have been a bit of a question in his voice.

"No," he replied. "Not anymore."

James kissed him then, and ground against him suggestively. "We have lube now…" He trailed off and quirked an eyebrow.

Logan willingly allowed himself to be pulled in the direction of James' bunk to fetch the lube, sorely missed those past few days. James crouched down to shake the bottle out of the toe of a sneaker. "Out of curiosity," he began, still at eye-level with the pillow, "are we exclusive?"

Logan shifted and bit back his immediate _yes_ in favor of a better question. "Out of curiosity, have we ever been anything but?" For Logan himself, there'd never been anyone but James while they'd been fooling around.

James' fist clenched around the bottle and when he stood back up, he was beet red. "No," he muttered. Logan let out a surprised, delighted laugh. "Shh!" James hissed, hauling him towards the bathroom. They spoke in whispers, neither wanting to take the risk of waking the other two.

"Really? Not once in—what—six months?" Logan couldn't get over it.

"Shut up," James retorted, closing the door. The cubby was barely large enough for the two of them to stand comfortably. They had more room if they opened the tiny shower, so James did so. "If it weren't for me, you'd still be a virgin."

Logan had no return for that; it was unfortunately true. "Too much talking," he said instead, pulling his shirt over his head and undoing his belt. James batted his hands away and hooked his thumbs into Logan's beltloops, tugging him close. He made quick work of Logan's button and fly and pulled his jeans and boxers down, dropping to his knees as he did so, feet in the shower.

Logan tipped his head back and bit his lip when James pulled him into his mouth and began to suck immediately. It was all kinds of wonderful and over far too soon as James pulled off and tapped the back of his calf to get him to raise a leg. Logan did so and James tugged his pants off of one leg and then the other.

"How do you want this?" James asked, standing to undo his own pants.

Logan looked away. Usually he'd say something like 'I'll bottom' or 'let's do this fast,' but that was before. "I want you to fuck me," he finally said. "Face to face," and it felt as if he were exposing something that wanted to stay hidden.

James' mouth opened and his eyelids lowered with lust. "That'll be hard to manage in here. Wish we had a bed again."

"I have ideas," Logan assured him. James flipped the cap on the lube and squirted a quarter-sized dollop into his palm. The bottle made a loud squelching noise and they both laughed. "That was hot," Logan said with a snort.

"So are you," James replied, and Logan decided he was being serious. He stepped closer and wound his arms around James' neck, partly for the contact and partly because he knew he'd need a bit of support in a moment. James wriggled his own pants around his knees with the help of his dry hand to free his cock and let it rub against Logan's. Logan sighed and kissed James lightly when James' fingers finally found their way inside him, but he couldn't keep it up long—he was quickly clutching James for support and muffling his cries against James' neck. Truth be told he enjoyed being fingered more than he enjoyed being fucked, but it wasn't like he would complain either way.

Logan whined in protest when James pulled his fingers free. James chuckled, then stilled. "Shit. Forgot the condom. The box is out there in my bag."

Logan smacked him on the shoulder. "Hurry up." James wiped his fingers on a paper towel and hiked his pants back up before squeezing around Logan, unlatching the door, and slipping out into the dark bunk hall beyond.

He was back within thirty seconds, condom in hand. "Honestly. It's a miracle we ever get to have sex at all," Logan muttered, taking the condom to peel back the foil while James kicked his pants off. "Sit here," Logan ordered, pointing to the toilet that took up a third of the walking space in the bathroom. James looked at him in confusion. Logan only smiled until comprehension dawned on James' face and he smirked, putting down the lid and seating himself on the cold plastic.

Logan dropped down and licked a broad stripe up the underside of James' cock and suckled the head for a moment before rolling on the condom with the ease of practice. James wordlessly handed him the lube and he slicked him up.

He planted his feet behind James' own and hovered over him. It was a little ungainly, but worth it when James tilted his head back to lock gazes with him. Logan held himself open with one hand and braced against the wall with the other, relying on James to guide himself in as he slowly lowered himself. It took a moment but soon Logan felt James start to slide home. He ducked his head to kiss James as he seated himself on his cock.

He built up a slow rhythm, raising and lowering himself and trying to keep quiet. The strain made his thighs burn. "This is a workout," he joked breathlessly. James choked down a moan, hands on Logan's hips to urge him on.

It was a powerful experience, being able to look James in the face while they fucked. They'd never done that before, opting instead for the more impersonal doggy-style. He saw every tremor and expression that flitted over James' face and knew James saw the same in his. He could probably only see exertion right now, though, as he was practically bouncing in James' lap, huffing a grunt every time he went down. The sweet pressure of James' dick rubbing against his prostate was delicious.

James was still wearing a thin knit sweater, so Logan fisted his hands in its front and brought their mouths together hard. It was sloppy and wet and perfect, and when James finally stroked his cock Logan lost all sense of rhythm and just stuttered his hips. He was filled up and James' cock was pushing against his prostate and he came in James' hand, hunched over and with his face buried in James' neck. He supposed he should be embarrassed by the high "ah-ahhh!" sound he made, but he felt too good to care.

James gave him a moment to ride out his orgasm, stroking his back until his breathing slowed, but soon he shifted his hips agitatedly. "Logan," he murmured, and Logan tried to resume his previous movements, but only got halfway up before sinking back down again—his thighs were shaking too badly.

"Sorry. Hang on, I'll blow you," he said, right in James' ear, and James inhaled deeply.

"Dirty, dirty," he said, helping to steady him as Logan eased himself off and stretched out his legs. Logan gave him a wicked grin, kneeling in front of him and waiting while James peeled off the condom and threw it away wrapped in toilet paper. Logan shoved his thighs apart and anchored James' cock with one hand while he drew it into his mouth. He did this often enough to know exactly what James liked, just the right amount of tongue and lips and a couple brushes of teeth.

It didn't take long. James warned him to pull off just before he started coming—James would swallow every time, but Logan hated it, and James respected that. Logan removed his lips and replaced them with his hand. A couple strokes later, James spurted over his stomach with a moan.

They cleaned each other up, whispering and trading kisses. James finally pulled off his sweater and Logan ran his fingers appreciatively over his perfect abs. They didn't bother with the rest of their clothes, but they did pull on their underwear because only Carlos occasionally slept in the nude and none of them needed a eyefull of anyone else's junk that early in the morning.

"What time is it?" Logan asked, fighting a yawn and losing.

James dug his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, heaped on the floor with the other garments. "Past your bedtime."

"Fuck you," Logan said amiably, leaning back against the door and smiling in a way that very clearly meant _come kiss me_. James obliged, and Logan hoped he never got used to how amazing it was to be pinned against a solid surface by another man and kissed within an inch of his life. "Oh my God, no round two, okay?"

"Better stop now, then," James mumbled from where he was biting his way slowly down Logan's neck.

"Mmm," Logan agreed, but it came out as a moan, so he pushed James away, stole one last quick kiss, and opened the door, bundle of clothes in hand. Now that James was no longer overwhelming all his higher brain functions, his bunk called to him like rain to a desert. His bunk was the bottom left, under Carlos'. Kendall's was across from him, with James on top of Kendall. Carlos' arm hung over the edge of his bunk and Kendall snored softly—neither had any idea what had just happened in the bathroom, as usual. Logan often wondered at his good luck to have two such oblivious bandmates.

He tossed his clothes into the corner of his bunk, vowing to deal with them in the morning, and hit the sheets, burrowing into his pillow with a moan heartfelt enough to rival the ones he'd been making a few minutes ago. James was still bustling around, no doubt putting some kind of product on his skin or face or teeth—exhaustion wasn't enough to make James Diamond skimp on his beauty ritual. The sink was still running when he finally dropped off to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

The morning dawned with the unexpected stillness of a motionless bus and the quiet of a snowy, cold landscape. Of course, the peace was fractured within seconds when the bus doors squeaked open to admit a blustering, parka-clad Gustavo.

"Up and at 'em, dogs! Go, go, go!" He yelled from the mouth of the hallway lined with their bunks. Logan suspected he would have bodily thrown them from their beds himself, but was afraid he'd get stuck in the narrow hallway. He wasn't a small man, Gustavo.

Unfortunately, what Gustavo didn't know was that Mrs. Knight had been using the same tactics on them all for nearly two years now, with similar results. Kendall groaned something unintelligible and buried himself further in his blankets. James peered out from under the mass of sheets he'd constructed around himself like a fort, blinking balefully, and Carlos didn't even move. Only Logan, who'd been up for some time, waved at him absently and turned another page of his book.

Gustavo's face reddened with annoyance. "You will get up now, get dressed, go to where your fans are gathered, and sign anything they shove at you, or I will send Kelly in here _with an airhorn_," he growled, enunciating every syllable.

Ah, threats. Mrs. Knight usually just started employing those right off the bat, nowadays. At least it got the other three moving, albeit slowly and with much grumbling and muttering.

They were eventually all showered, dressed, standing outside the bus, and more or less awake. Kelly pulled up in her classy hatchback and they piled in, Kendall up front and the other three in the back.

"We're doing a signing?" Kendall asked, all business.

"Yes. We want to show the fans you're here, healthy, and happy. Be happy," Kelly commanded. Kendall beamed at her sarcastically.

They pulled up around the back of the concert hall where they'd be performing that night and were escorted to a low table by a pair of coordinators. The boys seated themselves, joking, pushing, and ignoring the frankly frightening way a couple of the fans were throwing themselves against the glass of the windows all the way across the hall from them.

"Brace yourself," James whispered at him as the first of the fans dashed through the maze of cording to reach them. She stopped in front of Kendall, chest heaving.

"I—I—I just love Big Time Rush so much," she gasped.

She wasn't wearing much of anything under her unzipped coat and seemed about their age; it was lovely when their fans looked old enough that Logan didn't feel creepy checking them out. She had brought a poster to be signed and slipped Carlos her number before the line of fans finally pushed her away. Logan wished she set the tone for what they could expect from the next hour, but alas, like in every other city, their fans didn't vary much from the normal age demographic. Preteens, all of them, or even younger. Out of the whole signing, maybe a handful were older than fifteen.

They compared the phone numbers they'd collected during the signing afterwards, hanging around the greenroom eating chips and dip. As per the usual, Kendall came out ahead, with James in second place. Logan and Carlos tied for third, though usually Carlos lost. Kendall stuffed four chips into his mouth to celebrate his victory, then they ripped up the bits of paper and chucked them in the trash. It was one of the most serious rules of their label: no calling the fans. Bad press of that sort would have landed them on their asses, out of contract and career.

"Sound check in twenty, boys," Kelly called from the doorway, looking harried. There was a pen behind each ear and one in her hand. Logan decided not to say anything.

"Shoot!" James yelped, as soon as Kelly had gone. "I think I left my phone back in the auditorium. Logan, come help me look?"

"Sure," Logan said. His chair scraped across the ground as he stood up.

"Find it fast," Kendall warned, reaching for more chips.

"Want help?" Carlos asked guilelessly.

"Nah, we got it. See you soon," James said, walking out of the room. Logan hurried to catch up, matching his pace as best he could.

"You really lose it or are we just sneaking off to make out?" he asked.

James laughed at his frankness. "The latter."

"Fancy terms. The English major in me's all hot and bothered."

"Baby, you haven't _seen_ hot and bothered yet."

"Come show me," Logan purred, feeling ridiculous but loving the effect he was having on James. His friend (boyfriend?) licked his lips, darted a look down both ends of the hallway, and pulled him into an unlocked closet.

Or, at least, what Logan _thought_ was a closet. It was about the width of a normal janitorial closet, but was as long as the greenroom they'd just exited. A long, folded velveteen bolt of fabric lay on the ground, surrounded by ropes, pulleys, bars, and odds and ends.

"Is that a curtain?" Logan asked, momentarily distracted by his curiosity.

"For the stage? Yeah, I think it is." James wove around the various roadblocks to get to the middle of the closet, disappearing behind a tower of boxes stacked on top of the curtain. Logan followed, narrowly avoiding tripping over a punctured drum.

James grabbed for him the moment he got close enough, and they sank into a tangle of limbs onto the folded curtain, mouths attached and kissing hard enough for that detached, scholarly part of Logan's brain to wax poetic on the joys of being a hot-blooded teenager.

Logan ended up on his back, the side of his face pressed into the velvet as James sucked at his pulse point. He could smell how dusty and mothy the old curtain was from his position, but all he was really concerned about was that James _never stop_ _doing that_ with his tongue.

"N-no marks," he gritted out, all too aware of the sound check they'd be doing in what was now probably less than fifteen minutes.

James pressed down against him. "Can we just rub one out right now? Please?" He ground their hips together and grinned when Logan arched into the pressure.

"No," Logan said, but it was a weak protest and totally ruined by the way his hips seemed to be moving of their own accord. He freed one hand from where he'd slipped it up the back of James' jacket and fished for his phone where he'd dropped it on the ground. He shoved James off and sat up unwillingly when he saw the time.

"Sound check is in _eleven minutes_."

"We can come in four, tops," James insisted.

"Number one, is that really something you should be bragging about, and number two, _no_. I mean it. I'm not going through sound check with spunk in my pants." Logan glared until James lost his puppydog look and heaved a sigh.

"Fine," he said, sitting up and putting his back to the wall, "but I'm not going back out there with this." He gestured to the tent in his designer slacks.

Logan was hard enough to be noticeable as well, so he plopped back down next to James and knocked their shoulders together.

"Ugh," James groaned, sliding down the edge of the curtain-bench to sit on the ground. He stretched his legs out in front of him. Logan slid down next to him. James twiddled his thumbs pointedly.

"I spy with my little eye," Logan began, laughing as James butted the side of his head viciously against his collar bone and gave a "hell no." Logan expected him to straighten again, but he stayed where he was, head cushioned against Logan's neck and chest and body leaning against his own. Logan froze in surprise before cautiously bringing his left arm around James' shoulders.

From this close, James' hair smelled like nothing but Cuda products, but Logan liked it. It was a girly, expensive scent, and it suited James. They sat like that for some time, neither speaking, and when Logan pressed himself closer, he could have made an excuse like "it's cold in here," but he didn't.

Logan knew they were late for sound check, but he carefully didn't mention it until his phone beeped with a message from Kendall, wondering where they were. They reluctantly disentangled themselves and stood up, smoothing their clothes and hair. James stepped in, catching Logan by the hips and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He met Logan's eyes and gave him a shy, warm little smile, catching his hand and squeezing it once. Then he turned to go, and Logan followed him out.

Author's note:

Thank you so much for reading! I love the Big Time Rush fandom—everyone's so enthusiastic without too much of the fandom wank you find in a lot of the bigger communities. The boys are so easy to write; mostly, all I have to do is ask them, "what happens next?" I think that's because the show in general has so little angst that I'm not compelled to work through a gallon of emotional problems in the boys' psyches—they can just laugh and push and fight without having to address the _deep psychological damage_ everyone is suffering. Consequently, I think this makes my writing style more lighthearted and less lyrical. I'm gearing up for my first foray into writing Batman fanfiction, and lemme tell you, it's a whole different ball of wax over there.

If you liked the fic, I'd really, really appreciate it if you took a moment to let me know. Reviews mean the world to me.


	6. Chapter 6

1) Yes, this story is finished. This is just an add-on scene that may or may not have everything to do with an itch to write bandana bondage.

2) This is for my dear DeadPetSparky, who answered my drinking games question with a total gem of a game. She has the patience of Job and hasn't even gotten mad even though this is like two months late. As for _why_ this is so late, [insert believable excuse here].

3) WARNING: shameless PWP ahead.

Carlos, bless him, had never seen Chicago. The Windy City was the next stop on their tour, and the second Kendall had heard of this outrage, he'd promised to take Carlos touring. It was a relief not to have to think of an excuse not to join them; the tour was taking it out of all of them, and no one would question Logan and James' motives when they begged exhaustion.

"Call when you're on the way back," Logan reminded them as they sauntered out the door, not minding the 'yes mom' Carlos threw over his shoulder.

James was on Logan the second the taxi bearing Carlos and Kendall into the heart of the city pulled away from the lot in which the bus was docked. They hadn't touched each other in nearly a week, hadn't fucked in even longer, due to a number of factors that all basically boiled down to _Kendall and Carlos sticking their noses where they didn't belong_. Logan was horny, James was near death from blue balls, and the bus was now, mercifully, empty.

Logan pushed his fingers into James' hair and kissed him deeply and quickly, almost as a formality before pulling back to strip. James might have laughed at him for his eagerness, had James not also been struggling with his own clothes. "Where?" he asked, looking meaningfully towards the couch in the main lounge.

Logan considered it for a second before his sense of propriety got the better of him. Doing it on the couch they all sat and hung out on was just _rude_. He shook his head. "Bunks."

James grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down the bunk hall, throwing himself onto Logan's bunk and tugging for Logan to follow. James had been letting his hair grow out some, and it fanned out on the pillow around his head. Logan reached up to run his fingers through it and James huffed a sigh. "Just get the lube and fuck me already," he said petulantly.

"Gagging for it, aren't you?" Logan teased, bracing himself on one arm while he rummaged in a drawer under the bunk for the familiar little bottle.

"We _have_ to figure out how to do this more often," James groaned, stilling his fingers where they were skating over Logan's ass. "I'm just gonna have to buy a dildo otherwise."

Logan nearly choked, his hand closing involuntarily around a wad of fabric in the drawer. "You'd seriously want—with a dildo?" he stuttered, his mind creating a rapidfire series of filthy images for him that sent lust curling tight in his belly.

James grinned at the flush covering Logan's face. "Shit, yeah, I would. I could do it in my bunk. Bite my pillow to keep quiet. Shove that thing in and out of my ass until I came." Logan made a noise in the back of his throat. He dumped the fabric he had grabbed onto the bed and brought his hand to his cock, stroking while James talked. James ran his hands up and down Logan's back, pausing every stroke to dip between his cheeks. "Unless you'd want to be there too…? I could get one that vibrates, Logan, and you could hold me down. You could _tie_ me down, work my ass with it." Logan bit his lip and held James' gaze, blushing to the tips of his ears. He pumped his hand on his dick. "I'd be screaming, it'd feel so good. You could pull it out and fuck me yourself. I'd come so hard—you wouldn't even have to touch me."

Logan moaned. "You wanna be tied up? You like that?"

"Why don't you tie me up and find out?" James replied, a creampot smile on his lips.

"Really?" Logan breathed. James nodded. Something tugged at a neuron in his brain, though, something he'd read on the internet. It was probably silly, but… "Wait, wait, I think we need a safeword."

James stared at him incredulously. "Aw, Logan, come on. Quit killing the mood."

"Nope. Safe word. To keep things kosher."

"We're not even doing anything kinky," James protested. Logan glared. "Fine, fine, Jesus. How about 'Carlos.'"

"What about Carlos?"

"As a safeword. If I'm yelling his name while having sex with you, something is seriously wrong." James chuckled.

"It's not a joke, James. Ugh. Fine. 'Carlos' is our safeword. God."

"See? You killed the mood." James dragged him down and fastened their lips together. Their hips rubbed in small circles, dragging their cocks against each other, and soon Logan was considering the merits of just frotting until he came. James' hand suddenly came down against his ass in a sharp slap. "Tie me up. I want it," he groaned, so Logan obediently sat up and glanced around for something suitable for bondage.

His gaze finally alighted on the wad of fabric he'd pulled from the drawer. It turned out to be an assortment of James' favorite dorky bandanas—two purples and a blue. Perfect.

"Arms over your head," he ordered in the least-convincing voice of authority ever, but James complied, smirking. The headboard of the bunk was slatted and fused to the wall in several places, but Logan managed to find comfortable areas to loop the purple bandanas around. He fashioned them like two sets of handcuffs, with one end tied around the bunk and one around James' wrist. It took some time, but when he finished and sat back on his haunches, James strained against the makeshift bonds and they miraculously held fast. "Your circulation is unimpeded, yes?"

"What?" James muttered, still testing out the bandanas.

"You can still feel your hands?"

"Yeah, they're fine, fuck me."

Logan started to reach for the lube once more when a better idea ran through his head. "Yeah, I don't think so."

James looked at him questioningly as he bent his head to touch his lips to the edge of the curling thatch of hair at the top of James' dick. He dragged his tongue into the groove between his abs and pulled upwards, licking a stripe to his chest. James breathed out slowly and his stomach muscles quivered when Logan followed the line with a stream of cool air from his lips. He turned and bit sharply at a nipple, then laved away the pain with his tongue. He did the same to the other, rolling the nub between his lips and blowing on it, drawing a quiet gasp from James.

He looked up to find James' eyes locked on him, two spots of color high on his cheeks. Logan wished he could talk dirty like James, but that was a different hurdle for a different day. Right now the sounds of skin on skin and heavy breathing would have to suffice. Logan ran his hands over James' torso, keeping his touches featherlight and moving agonizingly slowly towards James' cock. He skimmed around the base and James made a hopeful noise, but Logan just continued south over his thighs.

"Logan," James huffed. His hands were holding onto the cloth of the bandanas like lifelines. Logan stilled.

"Beg."

"What?"

"Beg," Logan repeated, wetting his lips with a slide of his tongue.

James' eyes were hooded and heavy. "Please. Please please please."

Logan grinned and wrapped a hand around James' cock, giving him about five pumps while his body undulated up into his grip with the relief. Then Logan let go, thoroughly ignoring James' whine. He brought his hands down to wrap under James' thighs and push them wider apart, fingers slipping in the sweat gathered there. He coaxed his knees to bend and took a moment to enjoy the view, thoroughly appreciating James spread out for him like this.

"You're gorgeous, you know," he said, smirking to take the sappiness out of the words. James rolled his eyes, but looked pleased nonetheless. Logan ran the backs of two fingers up and down James' shaft and thumbed the head while James' hips stuttered and he gasped; he thumped his head back against the pillow when Logan cupped and rolled his balls, and sighed with relief when Logan released him to snap open the bottle of lube and dribble some over his fingers.

He wasn't gentle when he pushed two fingers in, but right now James didn't need gentle. James moaned deep and low and his hands strained at the bonds. Logan crawled up to kiss him while he worked him from the inside, but James kept breaking away to pant. "Logan," he gasped, arching to rub himself against whatever of Logan he could reach. "Logan, Logan—" He cried out and shook and Logan felt his come splash against his stomach.

Logan withdrew his fingers and pushed himself up on his arms to hang over James. He was trying not to laugh, but his mouth twisted and a snort escaped. James was flushed and breathing hard beneath him, but he opened his eyes to glare at Logan at the sound.

"Shut up," he whined, voice hoarse.

"James, I barely touched you!"

"It was really hot, okay?"

"Thought you were supposed to have all this amazing stamina," Logan teased, grabbing the unused blue bandana to wipe the come off them both. James stuck his tongue out and his eyes drifted down to Logan's untouched erection. Logan very much agreed; it was undeniably his turn. He shuffled over to untie James, but James stopped him before he could reach the knots.

"Wait. Leave it—let me blow you."

"What, like that? I'll choke you!" Logan was running through diagrams of the human throat in his head and couldn't find an angle that wouldn't leave James gagging.

"No you won't. I'll be fine. Come on, please?" James bit his lip and so Logan had to give in. He put another pillow behind James' head first, though, not sure if that would help matters or not.

A few awkward moments of shuffling later had him with his knees on either side of James' neck, practically smashed against the ceiling as he tried to bend double. It wasn't the most comfortable of positions, but the head of his cock was brushing James' lips deliciously and James looked about as turned on as Logan felt. James, it seemed, had been hiding a few more kinks than Logan expected.

"Fuck my mouth," James whispered, and Logan's own mouth fell open. Still, he pressed his hips forward and pushed his cock into James' mouth. He refused to go anywhere near James' throat, so he pulled back out after only about two inches were encased. In and out and in and out and the pressure and heat of James' mouth were incredible, and combined with the flicks and presses of his tongue, Logan was having a tough time keeping rhythm. He grunted and petted James' hair, spasming when James let his teeth scrape gently along his length. He was well on his way to coming.

James closed his mouth when Logan next pulled out. Logan paused, and James said, "I'm hard again. Fuck me?"

"Yeah, God. Hang on." Getting out of his position was trickier than it seemed, and eventually he managed it with a move worthy of one of their music videos. If their music videos had been x-rated, of course. "Gonna come in like two seconds," he confessed as he felt around for a condom.

"Don't care. Want you," James moaned, shifting on the bed.

Logan's generic Verizon ringtone blasted from the opposite bunk.

"It could be your mom," James said desperately as Logan vaulted from the bunk to scoop up the phone, wincing as his erection bounced unpleasantly against his stomach. How much time had passed? Surely they couldn't be coming back yet!

"Or it could be Kendall and Carlos on their—" he punched the 'answer' button "—Carlos! Hi! How are you?" Logan was dimly aware he was talking like an idiot, but panic had taken the reins. "How far away? Super! See you soon! Bye now!"

He hung up and tossed the phone in the general direction of the bunk as he dove back onto the bed and scooted up by his head. His fingers scrabbled at the knots in the bandanas. "What? Are they close?" James asked, catching his panic like the flu.

"Five minutes away. _Fuck_ I can't get these damn things untied!" The knots had been pulled rock-solid by James' straining and no amount of digging on Logan's part was going to loosen them. "I'm getting scissors."

"No!" James yipped in horror. "You can't cut up my bandanas!"

"Do you _understand_ our situation?" Logan hissed, already on his way to the kitchen. He came back with a pair of silver safety scissors that he used to cleave through the fabric. James squeezed his eyes shut the whole time, as if Logan were cutting off a limb.

Freed, James sat up and rubbed his wrists as Logan cut the ties free of the headboard and stashed them in the back of the drawer they had come from, to be disposed of discreetly at their next stop. The blue bandana he tossed in with James' laundry. "Clothes!" he ordered, and the next two minutes were spent finding their outfits that had been tossed around the bus in their haste to fuck.

"What else?" Logan asked, turning around in panicky circles to look for clues that would give them away. "The smell! It smells like sex in here. I'm getting the Febreze."

"No you're not," James said, grabbing him around the waist and pulling him against his taller form. "It smells fine. Everything's fine. Calm down." He pressed a kiss against the back of Logan's head. "You're being neurotic, babe."

James' mouth snapped shut with an audible click of teeth, Logan froze, eyes wide, and Kendall's and Carlos' voices could be heard just outside the bus. It was time to go back to being friends instead of official unofficial boyfriends, but…

_Babe?_


End file.
